Worlds Away: The Mass Effect Epilogue
by TheSleeperWakes
Summary: The Mass Effect universe introduced some of the greatest Sci-fi characters ever. This is how I imagine their story ending. Chronicles the voyages of the Normandy and her crew during the final days of the Reaper war and beyond. Includes action, comedy, relationships, and a battle with Harbinger. Enjoy, and thanks for reading!
1. Part 1: Waking Up

**Part 1: Waking Up**

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><p><strong>AN:** This is a story for anyone who, like me, has fallen in love with the crew of the Normandy, and is not ready to let them go. To anyone who was dying to see an end to the Reaper War and a final battle between Shepard and Harbinger. Part 1 of this story begins after Shepard's failed run for the Citadel beam and deals with the end of that war. It attempts to match the tone of the Mass Effect series, with equal parts adventure, comedy and tragedy. It focuses on the relationships between the characters as well as the greater themes of the series. Fair warning that not everyone survives to see the dust settle in the end. It has been a privilege to begin a story with characters that are already so beloved. Thanks to BioWare for creating this vibrant and seemingly infinite new universe. Everything in it belongs to them not me. My profuse thanks to anyone who takes time out of their day to read this. Each one of your reviews (good or bad) means the world to me, and I will do my best to incorporate your input into future writing. Enjoy!


	2. Get up

**Chapter 1: Get Up**

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><p>The first thing Shepard felt was the breeze. It was a gentle breeze that soothed his skin and cooled the sweat on his neck. Each gust drew with it an involuntary breath, and each breath felt like heaven. For a few minutes he just lied there and listened. He listened to the wind stir the grass and roll bits of gravel across the stone into little puddles of water. He listened to the thunder brewing softly the distance. He listened to the dog tags jingling against his armor. The cool air swelled in his chest and nearly brought tears to his eyes.<p>

Then he heard a voice. Someone was speaking to him. The syllables were soft and indistinct. Still lying on the ground, he tried to make sense of them. Each word echoed like it was being shouted from far away.

"What?" He tried to ask, but said nothing. His mouth didn't move.

Suddenly he felt a soft pressure on his shoulder, and the voice, suddenly close to his ear, said,

"I do have something for you...a gift...it'll only take a moment if..."

The sound trailed off into silence. He couldn't be sure if it was real or just illusion. He tried to remember where he had heard it. Before the answer came to him, another voice spoke up. Then another.

"You're the reason we're here..."

"Everything will be different..."

"I won't let you down Shepard..."

They came from all directions, overlapping and interrupting one another.

"If this thing thing goes sideways and we end up there-"

"Thanks for getting me out of that..."

"Only your actions will be remembered..."

"You were born to do this..."

He tried to call out; to answer them, but he couldn't find his voice. He reached for deeper breaths, but his chest was still. He tried to open his eyes, but saw only darkness.

"Shepard." One voice called

"Where are you?" he answered.

"Shepard." Came another.

"It's too dark. I can't see where-"

"Shepard!"

The wind was stronger now, pulling on the grass; tearing it out by the roots. Gusts whipped the tiny pebbles into his face, biting at his cheeks. The thunder grew louder and angrier. The dog tags caught the wind and tugged at his neck. He felt his skin tear under the chain.

"I can't... I don't think I can breath!"

Pinpoints of light began to punctuate the darkness. He felt a pressure behind his eyes.

"Shepard!" The voice persisted.

His head began to pound. A thumping in his temples pounded along with the howling wind.

"I can't breath!"

He tried to clutch at his neck. The chain pulled tighter. The pounding grew louder and louder. Shepard tried to fight it, tried to stay focused, but with each moment, he felt himself slipping. He felt the voices growing farther and farther away.

Then, at the apex of the chaos, the voice came back. This time it was close. Right next to his ear. In a delicate, almost imperceptible whisper, he heard the words.

"This is it...isn't it?"

In one last struggle for air, Shepard dug his fingers into the earth and tried to lift his head.

"no."

The movement was subtle, but he felt something gritty shift against the back if his scalp.

"No."

Struggling against a world of resistance and pain, he reached deep. He felt every muscle fiber in his body go taught. Lightning storms of pain shot down his arms.

"No!"

Something snapped. His muscles released. The lightning vanished. The air went still. The wind and thunder and voices; everything went silent.

...

Shepard opened his eyes to a night sky on fire. Ruptured mass effect cores and burning ozone combined to form a backdrop for the scene above. The gnarled wrecks of a hundred warships, Allied and Reaper alike, drifted against a sea of fluorescent blue and orange. Some sailed aimlessly into the distance. Others succumbed to the Earth's gravitational pull and sank off along the horizon. Somewhere in the periphery he saw two enormous vessels collide. There was a brilliant flash of light, and then they were gone.

He tried to sit up. The effort exhausted him. He spent another minute just staring upward. It was bright as day, but somehow dreamlike. There was no noise or pain. Taking long, deep breaths he began to piece together the situation.

London. The Reapers. The...the Citadel. I have to get to the Citadel.

With a violent heave, he rolled onto his side and pushed off against a broken stone slab until he was sitting upright. He noticed that his right leg was dangling over a sharp edge in the rock. The earth before him had been carved in two; the bedrock split by Harbinger's beam. Shepard stared down into the crevasse, then up at the city before him. The London skyline stood out in dark relief against the glowing sky. Suspended some distance in the air, the Citadel hung motionless. The arms were closed. The beam had gone dark.

No.

In a futile attempt to stand, Shepard rocked forward and fell headlong onto his face. His chin hit something hard. He tasted dirt and blood.

"Shepard."

He looked around, but saw no one. At least no one alive. The ground was littered with the remains of Hammer forces. Shepard shook his head. Once more he rocked forward on his knees and tried to stand. Once more he fell onto his face, this time he landed in an oily puddle. He spat and struggled to wipe the mud from his eyes.

"Shepard."

He couldn't see. He rubbed an arm across his face. The armored sleeve just made it worse.

"I'm sorry." The words came out as a whisper. He let his cheek touch down on the ground. The earth felt cool against his face. "I'm sorry."

...

Grunt sat on a fallen column at the top of the hill, laughing his ass off with the rest of Arlakh company.

"The great Commander Shepard! My own battle-master and curer of the Genophage! I thought humans learned to walk by your age. Or are you just hunting baby Rachni in the mud?"

This was followed by a chorus of Krogan laughter.

Shepard, still only half conscious, heard the rhythmic crescendo of heavy footsteps approaching. There was the distinct crunching of gravel, spent thermal clips and husk skulls underfoot. Without warning, a monstrous hand gripped his shoulder guard and pulled him to his feet. Shepard opened his eyes, and saw the face of his former shipmate, grinning widely as usual. As Grunt released his grip, Sheppard immediately fell back onto all fours, breathing deeply.

"Grunt… I… where's Anderson. What happened to-"

He trailed off to catch his breath.

Grunt opened his mouth to pile on a fresh batch of Krogan bravado, but was interrupted when one of his commandos came skidding down the rubble toward him. The soldier whispered something that Shepard couldn't hear, and after a word from Grunt, ran back up to his post. Grunt bent down and met Shepard at eye level, grin wiped from his face. "We've got trouble commander. It's time to move."

"I...I need a minute."

"Might not have a minute Shepard. Time to start walking."

The urgency was clear, but Shepard's legs would not budge.

"Move out Grunt. I'll be right behind you." Shepard meant this to sound like a command, but it came out as more of a wounded plea.

Grunt didn't move a muscle. Shepard continued.

"It's over Grunt." He gestured at the empty patch of sky, where the beam had been. "The beam's gone dark. We didn't make it." He shook his head. "It's over."

Still bent at the knee and never letting his marble blue eyes break contact with Shepard's, Grunt lowered his voice to a hiss. "Commander, I've spent more time listening to you talk than I have to anyone alive. Orders, questions and more empty words than I care to remember. Now you listen to me.

"Do you remember when you unsealed my tank back on the Normandy? When I flopped onto the floor and opened my eyes for the first time? When I first met you?"

Shepard managed a weary nod.

"There is something I never told you about that moment...something I never told anyone on the Normandy."

Grunt looked around to make sure that no one on his squad was listening.

"When you found me on Korlus, Okeer had to move my tank in a hurry. Because there was no time to upload the entire release program from his lab, he made some modifications to speed up the process. Waking up is supposed to be slow; to take hours. But I woke up instantly. My entire nervous system lit up at once. I felt like I was dying Shepard. I needed to look strong. To prove myself to you. To show that I was worthy. But the truth is that I was in more pain then I have ever felt since. When I pushed you against that bulkhead, I thought my arms were going to tear clean out of their sockets. When I spoke to you, it took every ounce of concentration to form my words. I didn't want to fight you Shepard. I wanted to lie down; to climb back into the gestation fluid and go to sleep, but all the same I rose to face you."

"But Grunt, I would have—"

"I know. You would have let me. You would have told me to slow down and wait until I was ready to fight on my own time." Grunt coughed up a laugh. "I like you Shepard. You're a good leader and a hell of a soldier, but there is one thing you never understood about leading a team. You hold yourself to the highest standards, you refuse to quit, and you refuse to give up on your ideals, but you make allowances for everyone who fights for you. When the Collectors took your crew, and you were poised to chase them into the Omega 4 relay, you asked me to follow you. You tried to inspire me, and you trusted that I would be there when you needed me. But what if I hadn't, what if none of us had. If all of your speeches had failed, if none of us had been inspired to stand beside you, what would you have done then? You would have gone through the relay alone, and you would have died in that base. It would have been a great death, but you would have failed in your mission. You see Shepard, it's great when the right path just comes naturally without a second thought, but sometimes it's just too damn hard. Sometimes it feels natural to quit and just walk away. When that happens, you can't wait until you feel like it. There's a time for requests and a time for commands.

With a subtle nod to the left, Grunt added "Dagg here just had his arm chewed off by a Harvester, and he's still marching with the best of us." Shepard glanced over at Grunt's lieutenant. His stump of an arm was taped up by what looked like strips of tissue torn from a Harvester wing. The makeshift dressing was soaked in fresh blood.

"You have to remind them that no matter how hard things get, no matter how much pain they're in, no matter how badly they want to lay down and go to sleep, that whether they're ready or not, it's time to get up!"

This time, when Grunt pulled Shepard to his feet, he stayed up.

After a stoic nod, Grunt allowed his grin to return and slammed an assault rifle into Shepard's chest. "Now hold this and follow me."

Shepard tested the grip. He slid a palm along the casing and locked a thermal clip into place. The weapon felt familiar in his hands.

"Alright Grunt," He nodded to the krogan and his team. "But I need to know what's going on."

Grunt's eyes lit up, and with the vaguely hostile terseness expected of a krogan, he said "A war is going on Shepard. Lucky for our side, you're not going to sleep through the ending."

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><p><strong>Next: The Vakarian Gambit<strong>


	3. The Vakarian Gambit

**Chapter 2: The Vakarian Gambit**

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><p>After carving through a scattered contingent of Reaper forces without a single casualty, Arlakh Company dropped Shepard off at a forward operating medical base just behind a defensive line established by a mixed force of Asari commandos and Geth shock troopers. A Colossus was standing guard over the entrance and vaporizing any husks that dared frontal assault. Shepard judged that it would hold ground unless the reapers put together a more organized offensive, and there was no sign of that.<p>

Shepard sat alone in a private suite. The room was completely sterilized and separated from the rest of the world by a negative pressure airlock. His wounds had been cleaned, slathered in Medigel and dressed. Overall, the injuries seemed minor, and the precautions of a sterile suite seemed excessive. His pain had been replaced by a series of burning questions. Grunt had been brilliant in combat, but was useless for information on the war effort. He had known nothing about Hammer's final push, or what had happened to the Citadel beam.

Shepard pressed the call button over his bed and received the same taped message he had been listening to for the past half an hour.

"We regret the inconvenience, but all medical staff members are involved in triaged procedures. Please bear with us." The voice had a familiar tone, but Shepard could not place it.

The more he thought about it, the entire room was strange. He had spent a lot of time in hospitals, but he had never seen any of this equipment before. There was a level of organization that bordered on compulsive. Every wire was perfectly coiled. Each piece of his gear, including the rifle leant from Grunt, had been neatly tucked in a series of transparent containers, organized by type, and stacked in the corner. He had been led in by a human nurse, but had not seen her since. Now he was dressed and waiting, with waning patience, for someone to discharge him.

After another five minutes, he hopped up to try the airlock. It was sealed from the outside. A hack attempt from his Omnitool failed to bypass the safety measures, and was met with an even more severe security lockdown. Whoever wanted him to stay put was no stranger to programming.

As he turned around, Shepard realized he was no longer alone.

At the opposite end of the room, on the other side of a transparent screen, which had been a solid wall only moments ago, was someone he had never seen before. Either a panel had slid open, or the wall had a digitized one-way illusion in place. The person on the other side was standing at attention with her hands behind her back. She was wearing a soft, skin tight lavender suit, with linear markings throughout. He could glean no more specific information about her identity, except that she appeared to be some sort of military officer. When Shepard introduced himself, she nodded and said nothing. He followed up with a question about the progress of allied ground forces. Had anyone made it aboard the Citadel? When had the beam gone dark? What was the status of Sword fleet? All questions met with nodding and stubborn silence. This was maddeningly strange, but only for a minute. Then it hit him all at once, and suddenly Shepard understood why she was avoiding conversation. She might have even fooled him for longer, but Tali'Zorah's girlish smirk gave her away.

Shepard, like anyone outside the Migrant Fleet, had never seen an unsuited quarian. Somehow though, as he looked at Tali's face, it seemed undeniably familiar, like an old friend. All it took was a hint of a smile, a small window into her personality, and he knew her face as well as his own. The realization revived him. Grounded him. Instantly the chaos, the confusion, and the unanswered questions faded into the background. Shepard was happy to see his friend.

Tali saw the recognition in his eyes and let out a giggle she had been suppressing.

"What gave me away? Could you see one of my hands?" She said removing her arms from behind her back and nervously clasping and unclasping her fingers.

"I'd know you anywhere you sneaky little Bosh'tet."

When she heard this Tali beamed a smile. Shepard asked "What's so funny? I was trying to be insulting."

"It's just that Quarian is a tricky language for humans to speak. The meaning of words changes with emphasis and inflection and…well…you just called me a sort of … fuzzy ceremonial hat."

"Well then… try to take it as a compliment I guess."

"I'll do that. So how do you like your room?"

"I was going to ask about that. The door is sealed from the outside."

"Standard infection control protocol. These isolation rooms are used for quarians who tear their suits in Combat. Negative pressure ventilation, UV antisepsis, antibiotic misting systems, and sterile airlocks are all standard. I had to pull a few strings to get you in here."

"I'm not sure how any of that applies to my injuries."

"True, your injuries are mostly taken care of, but if you had been put in a regular room, you would have stormed out by now, eager to rush back into the fray. I doubt words alone would have convinced you to stay. This was the only way I could think of keeping you here."

"So you locked me up on purpose. You better have a good reason."

"The best. I was under orders from the great General Vakarian."

"Garrus? A general? Since when do the turians promote generals in the middle of a battle."

"Since the most brilliant military maneuver in the history of space warfare: The Vakarian Gambit." Tali was clearly fawning now.

"When word came that you were missing in action, Garrus took the news badly." Tali stared back down at her hands. "We all did. We wanted to deal the Reapers a blow that they wouldn't forget, and it was Garrus that came up with the plan. At the time he was leading a force of turians and krogan just North of London. He was experimenting with different strategies, but one of them was particularly effective. The way he explained it was that the Reaper ground strategy is based on terror and disarray. Unlike their fleet, the ground force uses little advanced strategy. Husks are brainless after all, like wild varren chasing after a piece of meat. If attacked by fearless troops, they have little way of defending against surgical hit and run maneuvers."

"And who are more fearless than turians and krogan?"

"Exactly. Garrus combined this with his experience with you on the derelict Reaper, and he came up with his brilliant idea."

"_Technically he had assistance from me._" The voice came from somewhere in the room. Shepard immediately recognized it.

"EDI? Is that you?" He looked around. "Where are you?"

"_I am using the medical center servers and your room's PA system to communicate with you. I am physically on the Normandy."_

"Be quiet EDI. Let me tell the story."

_"I was just pointing out that Garrus could not have come up with his plan without my help."_

Tali crossed her arms and shook her head.

_"The calculations necessary to determine whether or not the disruption of the mass effect field on a Reaper capital ship would result in significant trajectory shift with respect to both Reaper and Sword fleets as to convince a reasonable military strategist that he or she was observing retreat, required the management of massive quantities of data."_

Shepard shook his head. "What are you saying EDI?"

_ "Only that the Vakarian Gambit required a level of statistical analysis that seems beyond the capacity of any organic, let alone a turian without any training in basic mathematics."_

"If you imply that Garrus is some sort of idiot again, I will borrow a bottle of Dr. Chakwas' brandy and pour it all over your shiny new memory core."

"_It would be wise to consider that the combination of ethanol and superheated data storage—"_

"Alright stop it, both of you! I get it EDI. You helped. Now Tali, what exactly did Garrus do?"

"Thanks to you, he knew that if a Reaper could be boarded, its mass effect core could be destroyed from the inside. So he packed the Normandy full of his commandos, and boarded a capital ship on the flank of the Reaper fleet. With all of the enemy ships focusing on our cruisers and dreadnaughts, he had his team aboard before the Reaper knew what was happening. Garrus fought through the husks, made his way to the core, and destroyed it. Most of the team made it safely back to the Normandy and they got out of there as quickly as they had landed."

Shepard thought for a minute, then responded.

"I'm glad it worked, but there are two things I don't understand. First, there are thousands of Reapers. I don't see how taking out one capital ship could have influenced the course of the entire battle." Tali nodded and waited for him to continue. "Also, this isn't the first time a Reaper was destroyed from the inside. The krogan were sneaking fission bombs onto Reapers on Palaven and blowing them to bits. If Garrus had used something like that, he could have dropped it off right inside the door, and never had to worry about fighting his way to the core. Why disable the Reaper when he could have blown it sky high."

"That's the whole point! He didn't want to blow it up. Up until that point, Sword fleet was doing well, but the Reapers always win by attrition. They keep fighting without any sign of fatigue or weakness, until they wear their opponents down. Eventually they break any will to oppose them. When the Reaper lost its core, it appeared to be intact from the outside, and it just started to drift away from the main fleet. Only Garrus and his team knew what was really happening, to the rest of Sword fleet it looked like—"

"The Reaper was retreating."

"Yes! What do you think it does for moral when a two kilometer long ship breaks ranks and runs for its life? It was like night and day. Every one of our ships came alive and fought like never before. And as for the Reapers, I'm not sure what sort of communication, if any, they were able to establish with the drifter, but their whole fleet was thrown into chaos. The chaos only lasted for about five minutes, but it was enough to gain the upper hand. Within the hour the Reapers were moving back toward the Sol relay to regroup. Do you hear what I am saying Shepard? We drove them from Earth!

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><p>Next: A Banner For All The Galaxy<p> 


	4. A Banner For All the Galaxy

Chapter 3: A Banner for all the Galaxy

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><p>"There you are." Liara found Shepard standing by a window on the facility's observation deck. Apart from the occasional burst of light on the horizon, there were no longer any signs of battle. Without air support, or any organized strategy, the Reaper troops were being wiped out en mass. The clouds had gone, and the now the sky was black, punctuated with glittering stars and the lights of the allied fleet.<p>

"Trouble sleeping?" Her voice was beyond soothing. She walked up behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder. Shepard felt the tension in his muscles melt beneath her touch.

"I'm afraid of what I'll see when I close my eyes."

"Nightmares?"

"Something like that." He turned to face her. "When did you get here?"

"I shared a shuttle with Garrus. We landed about twenty minutes ago."

"Where's he?"

"Visiting with Tali. He told me not to wait up."

Shepard laughed. "It was interesting seeing her without a mask. Have you ever seen a quarian before?"

"Only in pictures. She caught me staring and reminded me that this is a medical installation and not a quarian zoo."

They walked over to a pair of metallic lounge chairs and sat down. Shepard rubbed his eyes and stared up through a skylight. "Tali told me about the Crucible. After the Reapers abandoned Earth, Hacket secured the Citadel, docked the Crucible, and so far nothing's happened."

"That's true. We have teams on both the Citadel and the Crucible working to solve the problem, but so far without success. Oddly enough, the Reapers no longer seem to consider it a threat."

"Do you think there was a problem with the schematics? Something the construction team got wrong?"

"Liara leaned forward in her chair and closed her eyes. "Actually Shepard, I've been thinking about this for a while now. Maybe it's too early to jump to any conclusions, but I'm becoming more and more convinced that the Crucible was never meant to work at all."

"What does that mean?"

"I've spent my whole life trying to understand prothean culture, and after all I've learned, there are some critical questions that I've never been able to answer. For example, after the protheans became convinced that their extinction was inevitable, they put a great deal of effort into leaving information to the civilizations of the next cycle. Why then would they make it so cryptic? I've spent less than a year trying to accomplish what they had a hundred to do, and I've already compiled a codex of recorded history that is more comprehensive than anything they left us. It contains information on every known species, all major technological advances, everything we know about Reapers and how to fight them, and even a map of the Galaxies relay system. With my limited knowledge of Reaper attack patterns, I could easily place tens of thousands of copies in places that they would never find, and right under the noses of the underdeveloped species that will likely dominate the next cycle. If the protheans wanted to give us similar information about our cycle, they could have. Instead, they chose to strategically place a small number of artifacts with handpicked pieces of information. It was as if they were giving us just enough to lead us down a predictable path.

"And then there's the placement of the artifacts. As I mentioned before, it would not be difficult for evolutionary biologists to use our vast catalog of uncivilized species to determine which ones have the potential to develop into space faring races over the next fifty thousand years. We could predict characteristics of future societies and even take educated guesses at their strengths and weaknesses. Similarly, it would not have been hard for the protheans to predict that the asari, the turians, the salarians, and the Humans would rise to prominent roles. Now let's look at what they did with that information.

"We already know that the protheans on Mars were studying humanity in its infancy. We also know that roughly fifty thousand years ago, there was an unexplained boom in human technology referred to as the 'Great Leap Forward.' After millions of years of painstaking, step-by step advancement, rudimentary stone tools suddenly gave way to clothing, jewelry, fish hooks, cave painting, and countless other advanced societal elements. Parallel findings have been seen on Thessia, Palaven and the homeworlds of many other modern societies. The hanar still credit their Enkindlers with the gift of language. What if we had each been given a little push that was subtle enough for the Reapers to miss? My suspicion is that the protheans have had a plan for each of our species. The artifact on Thessia allowed the asari to become a technological and cultural center of the Galaxy, and to be the first ones on the citadel. I've been criticizing the asari government for keeping the information secret, but wouldn't any race do the same to maintain technological superiority? The protheans would have anticipated that. With my new connections and the recent Galaxy wide administrative chaos, I've been able to tap into top secret data held by the turian and salarian governments. It turns out there are similar artifacts on both Palaven and Sur'Kesh. The turians have based a great deal of their core military structure and tactics from what they've found, while the salarians were ushered light years ahead in a number of scientific fields including biochemistry, molecular biology and genetic engineering. We were meant to form a balance of power in the Galaxy that would allow each of our species to thrive, while building up armed forces in response to one another. If any one species had established total dominance, it would have been lulled into complacency and grown fat and lazy. Easy prey for the Reapers.

"So where does humanity come in? Not only were we given the least technological help, but our artifact was placed on Mars. We could have met up with the council hundreds of years earlier if the protheans installed it on Earth."

"Until recently that confused me as well. Why would they hold their information just out of arms reach? But the answer is obvious now. They wanted to stall you. Humanity had the most important role of all, and a delayed entry was necessary. This is where the Crucible comes in."

"A useless piece of prothean junk. A weapon that doesn't fire."

"Wrong on both accounts. The crucible is neither useless nor is it a weapon. Let me explain. In order to defeat the Reapers, it was necessary for the galactic competition that I've described to change suddenly to cooperation. Races torn apart by blood feuds and festering grudges would have to band together in a common war effort almost overnight. This must have seemed an impossible task, but the protheans found a solution. They would keep one particular species out of the fray until the time was right. It would need to be free of long standing grudges like the Genophage or the Exodus of Ranoch. As humans extended their reach, some conflict was inevitable, but they would have no time to damage any relationships irrevocably. Then when the situation became dire, when the Reapers were at our doorstep, it would be humanity that would help us bury our differences and bring the whole of the Galaxy together under one banner."

"And the Crucible?"

"Think about it. Over the past few weeks, while we were running from Sur'Kesh to Palaven to Thessia… while you brought peace between turians and krogan, quarians and geth, you were using the Crucible as your rallying call. It was right in front of us and no one noticed. Everyone believed the Citadel and its embassies were serving as the site of diplomacy, but it was the Crucible where real diplomacy was happening. It first occurred to me while I was watching vids of the construction. I saw krogan workers lifting girders next to rachni drones; quarian scientists were offering programming suggestions to Geth engineers. The protheans knew the project had to be large enough and complex enough to inspire that level of cooperation, but the whole site is smoke and mirrors. The crucible was never meant to fire. It doesn't do anything physically but spin its gears. By the time it was finished it had already served its purpose. It was a symbol of free will and defiance against an unyielding fate. A banner under which all of the Galaxy could unite."

When Liara looked over at Shepard, she could see that he was wrestling with the theory. It would be a lot for him to take in, just as it had been for her. After a minute of silence Shepard leaned back into his chair and let his gaze drift up through the skylight. "You know Liara, the last time I visited London, the city lights were so bright you couldn't see the stars." For a while they watched the sky in silence. When she looked over at Shepard, his eyes were closed.

"The protheans were right to choose humanity Shepard. Now they can rest easy…" Liara pulled a blanket from a nearby closet and draped it over the weary soldier, "...and tonight, so can you."

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><p>Next: You're In My Chair<p> 


	5. You're in my Chair

**Chapter 4: You're in My Chair**

* * *

><p>Shepard had to read the forwarded message twice before he could believe it.<p>

**To: Commander Shepard, Systems Alliance**

**From: Admiral Steven Hackett**

Commander. I hate to call you away from Earth just as things are looking up, but there's some Alliance business that needs to be taken care of back on Omega. I've sent the mission details to your terminal on the Normandy. I'm sure Specialist Traynor will be able to forward them to you, whenever you're ready.

By the way, I recently received the following message from an associate of yours. Thought you might find it amusing. Better get back to work before she steals more than just your title.

**Message to Alliance Command,**

**21:22**

We've finished our sweep of the Saturnian moons along with frigates Gazala and Marathon. Reaper resistance was notable only near Titan. In sector 23.1e we discovered a disabled Reaper Destroyer hiding among magnetosphere interference along with minimal fighter support. Interestingly, the bulk of its fighter contingent was acting in a repair capacity. The attached imagery shows the Oculus craft behaving in manor not previously documented. It seems that when necessary, they are capable of converting their main gun into a sort of welding device. We observed them using both scrap metal from destroyed vessels as well as intact Oculi, to sure up hull breaches and other vulnerable spots.

In order to maintain the element of surprise, I ordered the Normandy as well as the Gazala and Marathon to attack the destroyer on sight. The Normandy was the only craft fitted with Thanix cannons, and these were directed at weak points on the Reapers hull (as designated by the density of repair craft activity). The battle lasted 4.14 minutes from opening volley to the rupture of the Destroyers mass effect core. The Reaper then crash landed on Titan, and its remaining hull was submitted to orbital bombardment by the three aforementioned frigates. Local refueling stations are being notified of the wreck, and all potential hazards it presents.

**Update at 22:04**

The Normandy's com systems have detected a hailing signal from the cruiser Sydney. They are in Orbit around Jupiter and have experienced FTL drive failures. They are requesting escort to Earth. Normandy will answer.

**-Miranda Lawson**

**Captain of the SSV Normandy**

**...  
><strong>

"Captain of the SSV Normandy?" Shepard was more curious than angry. "The former second in command of Cerberus just walks aboard the most advanced ship in the Alliance Navy and declares herself Captain? Joker how does that happen?"

On the vidcom Shepard could see both EDI and Joker sitting in the Normandy's cockpit.

"It's hard to explain Commander, but ever since the fleets merged at the Sol relay for the attack, the old rank and file system kind of went out the window. Resources are going wherever they are needed, and authority is going to whoever has the guts to take it. I just saw a krogan fly by in a turian fighter. Poor guy had a better view of his knees than he did out the window. Ever since Garrus commandeered the Normandy for his little suicide mission— thanks by the way for making _that_ the cool thing to do—we've been the solar system's stealth ship for hire.

"So when did Miranda take over?"

"Oh you're going to love this. Yesterday, while we we're docked at a refueling station out by the Sol relay, out of the blue, Miranda shows up in a shuttle and says she's going back to her old office. Then she finds out that Liara has turned the old XO office into her little Shadow Broker nest. Of course Miranda freaks out, but not like yelling and screaming, just that internal freak out where she stares you in the eyes until you feel like the back of your head is going to explode. So at this point I'm expecting some serious biotic fireworks, but then she calms down, marches right up to Specialist Traynor and says that she is taking the last acceptable cabin on the ship. Long story short, she is now living on Deck 1 and is acting Captain of the Normandy."

"At least she's cooperating with Alliance Command. Has she made any big changes I should know about?"

"_She did have me dump the recycled oxygen and switch to fresh tanks."_

"Why did she do that EDI?"

"_She only mentioned that the decks smelled like krogan. I may have limited olfactory sensors, but after General Vakarian's attack, I did agree with her."_

Joker let out a sarcastic laugh, "Women. Am I right commander?"

"Thank you Flight Lieutenant. Where are you now?"

"Orbiting Earth. Just have to confirm that the Sydney has safely docked and we can come get you. The crew's looking forward to getting its Commander back."

"The reunion might have to wait a little longer. Something's come up on Omega, and Alliance command needs me to take care of it. I think I'll be taking a shuttle on this one."

"So what should we do in the meantime?"

"Sounds like _Captain_ Lawson will be more than happy to keep you busy.

* * *

><p><strong>Next: A Loose End<strong>


	6. A Loose End

Chapter 5: A Loose End

* * *

><p>"Alright people listen up!" Shepard looked around the tight confines of the shuttle. "We're only going to get one shot at this, so timing is crucial. Remember your roles, and don't get caught up in fights that we don't have time for." Shepard locked eyes with Grunt who waved off the admonishment.<p>

"What does she look like again?"

"Don't worry about it Grunt, if everything goes to plan you shouldn't even have to see her."

"And if things go to hell? Besides, I'm curious about who could be worth all this effort." Shepard nodded to Liara who passed a data pad to Grunt. He took one glance at the screen and tossed it back. "You're kidding. We're bringing out the cavalry for this little Varren scrap? You promised me a worthy fight."

"Her name is Aria T'Loak, and believe me, she'll have a cavalry of her own. What I'm really worried about is that she'll slip out the back door and we'll never see her again. In the old days she would have put up a fight to hold Omega. Now that she has a fleet of her own, she'll be more likely to run at the first whiff of trouble."

Liara added "Aria has an information network that rivals the Shadow Broker's. It was pure luck that she let her location slip this time. We can't expect it to happen again. She is on Omega to arrange a meeting with key members of Eclipse leadership. They believe that they are here to discuss the future of the United Mercenary Front. Really, she plans to kill them and return to her flagship as the Front's unrivaled leader. Since the battle for Earth, Aria has grown more powerful than ever. As her power grows, so does her paranoia and consequent reclusiveness. I would guess that if she gets away today, she will end up circling some isolated planet in an undetectable ship, orchestrating the galaxy's criminal element just like the last Shadow Broker."

"So what's the problem? The Reapers seem like a much bigger priority than a bunch of smugglers who scurry like cockroaches whenever someone turns on a light."

"Ordinarily I would agree Grunt, but the Alliance is giving priority to this mission for two reasons. First, it is a onetime chance. There is no putting this one on a back burner. Second, we are seeing a breed of criminal that has never existed before. During the battle for Earth, after the Bloodpack's fleet took heavy losses and Aria decided to betray them, she demonstrated to the remaining factions what she is capable of. This wasn't sabotaging a Grain tanker or pilfering a Red Sand shipment; she was destroying cruisers in open space. Aria wiped out the Bloodpack and withdrew from the battle at the head of her very own armada. When Shepard consolidated the galaxies might, he also consolidated the underworld. Aria has grown exponentially more ambitious. She will no longer be satisfied with hit and run operations. My sources tell me that she is already planning offensives against major trade routes in multiple systems simultaneously. Governments have collapsed over less. We cannot fight the Reapers with one hand tied behind our back."

Shepard nodded. "It's too bad Garrus couldn't join us on this one. He knows Omega better than anyone."

"Well you certainly called in more than a little back up. The trap is set, and the net is tight. Even Aria shouldn't be able to slip this one."

"Alright, there's the dock." Shepard stood and lit up his Omni-tool. "Everyone switch to encrypted channel delta-eight-five. Team one is landing. Team two report in."

Shepard ran down the list of code names, waiting for confirmation over the hiss of the encryption signal:

"Ghost."

"_I have a clean visual. Ready when you are."_

"Beacon."

"_In place. Terminal active"_

"Venus."

"_Ready to kick ass."_

"Spider."

"_Area secured. Weapons ready."_

"Shadow?"

"_Waiting for the signal."_

"OK team. Stay sharp and be safe. We're about to break Omega's only rule."

...

There was no need to rush. Aria took one last sip of the crimson liquid in her glass. She allowed the complex palate to roll around in her mouth and savored the warmth it left in her belly. She had to smile. This was sloppy, even for Shepard.

Aria had been informed of his presence ever since the clumsily disguised Alliance shuttle landed, and now she was listening to his team's communications on her earpiece. Cracking a commercially encrypted channel was child's play for the most powerful information dealer in the Galaxy. She only had to close her eyes and listen to know that Shepard was currently walking up to the front door of Afterlife with an asari doctor and some krogan muscle. Confronting her here was a poor choice, considering that the nightclub had more secret tunnels and smuggling compartments than the rest of Omega combined. In five minutes she would be aboard a private shuttle and far away from this place. Under the deep red lighting and the thumping bass, she felt a sting of nostalgia. She would miss Omega, but there was a brighter future ahead. Aria set down her glass and rose to leave.

"Alliance Commander Shepard is about to walk through that door." She said casually to her mercenary Captain. "Make it painful."

Of course the mercs would have no chance against Shepard, but they would at least slow him down. As she walked toward the ramp to lower Afterlife, she raised a finger to her earpiece. Things were getting interesting.

"_Ghost, do you have a visual on the target?"_

"_Not yet Shep."_

"_Venus?"_

"_Nothing. She must still be on the top floor."_

"_Perfect. We need to keep her there. Beacon, how are we doing with the fire alarm?"_

"_Working on it. Doors will be sealed momentarily."_

Interesting. Setting off the alarms would seal the fire doors to lower Afterlife and force everyone out onto the street in front. Inventive strategy Shepard, but one step behind as usual. Aria slipped through the door and into the corridor connecting the two levels. The pulsing music from below echoed around her.

_"OK, we just walked onto the top floor. I don't see her, but there are some angry looking Mercs headed our way. Beacon we need that alarm going now. Things are about to get noisy up here."_

_"OK OK …common you little Bosh'tet...got it!"_

Aria stepped out onto the floor of lower Afterlife just as the fire door shut behind her. The music was suddenly replaced by a rhythmic alarm tone, and a sprinkler system began to douse the floor in a flame retardant liquid. Aria put a hand over her eyes and took a moment to size up the area. Surprisingly most of the guests were in no rush to leave. One of the platform dancers was still in place, gyrating to the new beat. Sprinkler fluid was cascading down her body, and what little she wore was plastered to her skin. A group of men were cheering and throwing Creds at her feet.

Aria waded through crowd, pushing past the inebriated scum that had gathered. During his reign over Omega, the Patriarch had installed a tunnel leading from the floor behind the bar to a secure shuttle bay. Aria had never had to use it before, but she kept a shuttle fueled and ready at all times. She vaulted the bar and reached for the door release mechanism. The entrance to the tunnel slid open, and Aria ducked toward it. But before she could pass through, it slammed shut in a cloud of Biotic blue.

"That way's closed cupcake."

Aria turned to find that the dancer had stepped off of her platform and was standing a few feet away. The liquid running down her arms was dissolving a layer of body makeup to reveal a dense pattern of tattoos underneath. Just as she recognized the face, Aria was tossed, by what felt like a tidal wave, clear across the room and hard against a wall on the opposite side. She sprung to her feet in time to see Jack walking towards her with a murderous look in her eyes. If they had been anywhere else, Aria would have panicked, but Omega was her world, and there was always another way. The proper exit was on the far side of the bar which made it completely inaccessible, but Aria knew of a service entrance that had been put in place for the transfer of larger equipment and design elements. The door was heavy and a little difficult to open, but it was hidden in the wall right behind her.

Jack was advancing slowly. "No where to run. Let's just walk upstairs and have a nice talk."

In a flash, Aria removed a small canister of Red Sand from her belt and threw it at Jack, who instinctively fired up a barrier to protect herself. The barrier vaporized the canister and sent the ensuing cloud straight into Jack's face. Jack screamed and sent out a shockwave that rattled the floor and broke every bottle on the bar. By the time her vision cleared, Aria had pulled open the heavy door, slipped through, and locked it behind her. In seconds she made her way through an outer door and onto the street. She turned down a side alley and moved at a brisk walk toward the shuttle bays.

"_Damn it! Venus here. I lost her. Think she's outside somewhere."_

"_Anything Ghost?"_

"_No. I … wait… I see her! She's in an alley East of Afterlife. You can catch her if you run."_

"_Great keep an eye on her."_

Aria looked around. Who the hell is Ghost? Must be somewhere up high. A vantage point with a view of all the exits, but where? Either way she only had one option. She needed to move under cover. A path not visible from the air. There was one way that made sense. Over a month ago the batarian merchant guild had set up an open air market along a network of back streets. It was always busy and there would be enough room under the shops' awnings to move out of sight. She made a break for it.

"_Just lost her Shep. She ducked into a shop in the batarian trading district."_

"_Keep looking. I'm headed there now. "_

"_She could be anywhere by the time you get there." _

"_We've got her shuttle swarming with undercover Alliance troops. She'll have to come out sooner or later."_

_..._

Aria ducked behind an advertisement banner and peered out at Omega's busy space port. Her private shuttle was obviously off limits, but there were other options. Her first choice was the Blue Sun's frigate _Cicero_. It was a fast ship and the Captain owed her more than a few favors. However, she learned by eavesdropping on Shepard that the one called Spider was waiting at the _Cicero_'s dock to intercept her. From her hiding spot Aria could see that the code name referred to Zaeed Massani. He was trouble she didn't want. Aria wondered whether all Blue Sun and Eclipse vessels were under similar scrutiny.

The next best option was the armored freighter _Lancer_, which flew under the command of the pirate Damon Lisk. Lisk's fee would be tantamount to extortion, but he was honest and discreet. The only person anywhere near the _Lancer_'s bay was a quarian female sitting cross-legged on the floor, begging for Credits. There was no obvious threat there. Aria got up to move toward the dock when she noticed something. A subtle yellow glow flashed from underneath a blanket on the Quarian's lap. She was hiding an Omni-Tool! Quickly Aria ducked back under cover. Shepard's information was better than she would have ever guessed. He had anticipated her connections and posted spies at every possible exit. Someone was helping him. Someone with an info-net much wider than that of the Alliance. She would have to be more careful.

Aria mentally scanned her list for a ship that had no connections to any known mercenary or pirate organizations. What she came up with was the _Iron Varren_. It was an old krogan cargo ship that was dry docked on the far side of the bays. It had been sitting unused for years. It was even rumored that the _Varren_ was unable to fly, but Aria knew better. Beneath the rusty exterior was the humming core of a modern powerhouse. This last ditch escape vessel was known only to Aria, the Patriarch, and perhaps the Illusive Man, if he had been thorough during his brief occupation of Omega.

Aria stepped into the empty docking bay and stared up at the hulking ship. The thought of clearing the vessel from the dock by herself was exhausting, but she saw no alternative. Once aboard she began launch protocol. It took some time for the sequence to finish, but she entertained herself by listening to Shepard's team trading increasingly frantic quips about how Aria had disappeared. Once the engines were online, she sent docking control a code that enabled her to bypass all standard security measures.

_"Iron Varren, you are cleared for departure._"

The massive bay door opened and the vacuum of space enveloped the ship. Aria rested a hand on the controls when she heard Shepard say something that got her attention.

"Aria. Do not leave Omega."

He must have realized that she was listening in on his team, but it was too late. She considered patching into the signal so that she could reply, but decided against it.

"I'm giving you one last chance to save yourself. Meet me at the Normandy and I can take you into custody. If you leave this station, I can't protect you."

She laughed out loud at that. Once I get back to my fleet, the galaxy will belong to me. What protection can you possibly offer Shepard.

"You've been set up Aria. Every move you made today was planned. We knew you were listening the whole time. My team led you right where I wanted you. I know where you are."

He was clearly bluffing. His people had tried to kill her, and she had outsmarted them all. She leveled up the throttle and eased the _Varren_ out of the bay.

"Listen to me Aria, it doesn't have to end this way. Meet me and –" Aria was tired of the conversation. She cut the link and tossed the earpiece on the copilot chair. Returning to the controls, she was surprised at how easily the massive ship handled. Even for a novice pilot, it was an easy task to maneuver through the Omega traffic patterns and set a course for the Relay.

As Omega faded into the distance, Aria leaned back into her chair and took a deep breath. She drummed her fingers on the window and thought to herself, 'this galaxy will never be ruled by boy scouts like you Shepard. It will be ruled by the strong. The people willing to do what your conscience does not allow. Now, it is all mine.'

Aria never heard any footsteps, nor did she notice the deep blue glow that filled the cockpit. She only heard the words spoken softly behind her. "Aria T'Loak, may you find peace in the embrace of the goddess." Then everything went dark.

* * *

><p>Next: Goodbyes and New Beginnings<p> 


	7. Goodbyes and New Beginnings

Chapter 6: Goodbyes and New Beginnings

* * *

><p>"How do I look?"<p>

"You look good. Are you sure you're alright to do this?"

"Yeah. I think so anyway."

"He was a good friend."

"He was more than that. He was… he was the only one who believed me…believed _in_ me…from day one. Last night, when we got back from Omega, I went by the Spectre office to look over some of my original reports. At the time they must have seemed ridiculous. Any sane person would have doubted me, at least a little…but he never did. He took everything I said as truth without a second thought. When the Council laughed off my belief in the Reapers, he gave me command of his ship. I never took the time to appreciate that. It's funny… I've spent so much time over the past few years arguing with people… trying to convince someone to trust me or to join my cause… but because he never made me do that, I practically forgot he was there. He always was though…behind the scenes…risking everything he had to help me when he could. I…I would just give anything to go back and thank him."

"I may never have gotten to know him like you did, Shepard, but I'm pretty sure he wouldn't have wanted you to. When you put that kind of trust in someone… well, you don't expect anything in return. What he wanted was to see you become the man you are today. You gave him that. Any sort of thanks would have been a token gesture."

"Thank you Garrus."

"And you don't need to thank me either." Garrus reached up and brushed a fleck of dust from Shepard's lapel. "Alright. It's time."

…

Shepard stepped out onto the raised platform. There was a bigger turnout than he had expected, what with a war going on. He saw plenty of Alliance brass, members of the Turian Hierarchy, even a pair of Quarian Admirals, all sitting silently in their dress uniforms. Shepard wondered how many of them had known Anderson personally. He scanned for other familiar faces, but most just blended together. Everyone rose to attention as Shepard approached the podium.

"Please, sit down. I know as well as anyone what's going on out there, and I can only guess at what each of you is sacrificing to be here today. This won't take long."

Shepard rested both hands on the podium and took a deep breath.

"It's not easy to talk about David Anderson in a setting like this, because I'm sure you all knew him differently. Some of you knew him as the first human on the Citadel Council. Others as a devoted teacher and mentor. Some of you fought beside him during the First Contact War… some of you even fought against him in that same conflict. Regardless of the details, you all knew him as honest, trustworthy, ever dedicated to his ideals…and to his friends. He saw no value in bureaucracy or political dealings. Instead he trusted that people would take it upon themselves to do the right thing when it counted. Some saw this as naïve, but to others, it was a beacon of hope. Hope that the citizens of this galaxy could become something more. That they might rise above their self interests and useless grudges. He was a paragon in the truest sense. An example for us all to aspire to. Legendary in his feats, but always humble…no matter how you knew him; he would never have allowed you to call him 'Sir.'

At this Shepard had to close his eyes and take another breath. When he looked up at the assembled mass of military men and women, he could not help asking himself 'how many friends and family have they lost?' This war had to be won. And these were the people that would have to win it.

"When you leave here today and return to your fleets, let me ask you to remember this. The Reapers do not take time for ceremonies. They do not mourn their losses, and they do not celebrate their victories. Every move that they make is calculated and efficient, with the sole purpose of exterminating all that we hold dear. They consider this a strength…an advantage over their enemies. When you think back on the life of David Anderson, remember that they could not be more wrong. It is from moments like this that we draw our true strength. At Earth we showed them just how strong our will can be. We showed them that when we pull together as one, nothing in their arsenal can break our resolve. Even now, their grip on the galaxy is slipping. Wherever their forces have been isolated and weak, we have been quick to strike. When they pull back, we consolidate and grow stronger. They can no longer block all of our trade routes, and supplies are pouring into areas where the need is dire. The tide is turning, but the war is far from over. The Reapers will continue to exercise their most potent weapon. In the months ahead they will constantly be whispering in our ears, striving to drive wedges into the alliances that we have fought so hard to establish. It will be tempting to let old grudges divide us…to become blinded by fear, suspicion or greed. Everything depends on our ability to resist. I ask you to find strength in the memory of this fallen soldier. Remember what David Anderson stood for. Thank you."

* * *

><p>Next: Slow Dance<p> 


	8. Slow Dance

Chapter 7: Slow Dance

* * *

><p>Shepard sat at the bar, sipping a glass of Gold Label Erasa, still wearing his formal blues from the ceremony. He had opted to join his crew for a drink at <em>Cloud Nine<em>, an upscale bar on the Overwatch mega-station orbiting Earth. Anderson's funeral announcement had come right after the Omega mission, interrupting plans to celebrate the successful elimination of Aria T'Loak. The team was making up for it now.

Music, drinks, and the reunion of old friends had lifted the mood. Shepard watched with a smile as his companions laughed, traded stories, and spilled expensive liquor all over each other's shoes. Garrus, on his way off the dance floor, spotted Shepard and came over to the bar. Shepard could see that he was struggling to catch his breath.

"You look exhausted. What happened up there?"

"Have you ever tried to keep up with Jack on a dance floor?"

"As a matter of fact I have, but then again I use the term 'dance' pretty loosely."

"I think she's trying to make up for being in uniform all day. Some of those moves Shepard…that girl could make a turian blush."

"Could she?" The voice came from a few seats down the bar.

"Oh, hi Tali. I didn't see you there."

Tali'Zorah leaned back from her seat, resting the chin of her helmet against a clenched fist. The glow of her iridescent eyes seemed somehow brighter than usual. "Can I speak with you for a moment outside Vakarian?"

"Well…You know I'd love to, but I think Shepard needs me for something."

"Nope. He's all yours Tali."

"Nothing at all? No impossibly dangerous mission I can help you with. Retrieving a piece of Reaper tech lodged in a thresher maw's stomach maybe. Now would be a good time."

"I'm all set. You kids have fun."

Tali put a hand on the inside of Garrus' neck armor and gave it a sharp tug toward the exit.

"Ouch… that's not a dog collar you know."

As the two left the bar, Shepard heard Tali hiss "Why don't you tell me what else can make a turian blush," before the door closed behind them.

Shepard smiled and took another sip of his drink. The music changed to a slower song, and the lights dimmed to a cool blue. He took a minute to locate his old shipmates among the crowd.

He saw Liara sitting at a table with Samara, trying to explain something with exaggerated hand gestures. Samara was just listening and nodding patiently.

Kasumi was standing in the corner alone, sipping from a straw and looking amused by a fiery debate between Zaeed and Grunt; something about whether or not a throwing knife could ever be useful in modern combat.

"I could put this knife into a Krogan's eyeball from fifty feet away."

"Throwing is for females. Next time we're in a fight, remind me to show you how to use a knife like a real warrior. Although you probably couldn't lift mine off the ground."

Jack had left the dance floor and was trying to convince Joker to get a tattoo on his neck.

"Just a small one. I could do it myself. I could do the Normandy, or EDI even. Common, you would look like a total badass."

The concept of implanting insoluble ink within dermal layers had left EDI too confused for words.

Shepard took another sip and heard the clicking of heels behind him.

"Mind if I join you Commander?"

"I never mind Ms. Lawson."

Miranda slid into a seat next to Shepard and rested an elbow on the bar. She followed his gaze out into the lounge. "They're lucky to have you."

"I don't know about that. Not everyone is here tonight. Thane, Mordin, Legion…I can't help wondering where they would be right now if I hadn't dragged them into my fight."

"If you get too hung up on thoughts like that, you might be the one who's missing from the next get-together. Besides, it's not just your fight. This war was going to find each of us eventually. If you hadn't dragged us into it, something else would have, and we probably would have been far less prepared when it did."

Shepard just sighed and took another sip. Miranda turned to face her old commander. She could almost see the hurricane swirling inside of his head. The burden was stronger now than ever…so much placed on the shoulders of one man.

Miranda rose to her feet and gracefully extended an arm. "What do you say commander?"

"Are you asking me to dance Ms. Lawson? I thought you only knew how to fight and do paperwork."

"Don't push it Shepard. I never ask twice."

He took her hand and let her walk him up to the dance floor. The surface was shimmering with a watery effect. The lighting matched Miranda's eyes.

"You know that I'm not very good at this."

She smiled and met his eyes. "That's alright. I can lead."

"So I hear."

Miranda placed her arms gently behind Shepard's neck and began to move slowly with the music. He allowed a hand to rest on the small of her back. He could feel the raised hexagonal pattern of her suit against his fingertips. Miranda spoke first.

"You know it's been fun playing hero the last couple days. Dashing around the galaxy at the bridge of the Normandy. Leading charges against the enemy with a good team fighting beside me. Exhilarating really. It was different with Cerberus. Back then people followed out of fear or because we were paying them well."

"I guess you found that 'fire' you were always looking for. I read about that Reaper near Saturn. People don't follow you into battles like that unless they really believe in you. No amount of genetic manipulation can create that sort of leadership."

She laughed. "You always know just what to say, don't you?"

There was a subtle change in the music and the lighting lifted to a pale violet. Miranda seamlessly matched the shift in rhythm. In the pause between songs they overheard Liara talking to Samara about the restoration of Thessia, and the house she would build there one day. The description triggered a memory in Miranda.

"You know, I never told you this, but back when we were gathering our team to attack the Collectors, I had sort of an interesting habit. Whenever we acquired a new crew member, I would try to place them into one of two categories, based on how they would react if the war were suddenly over. In the first group were the people that could be truly content in a world without conflict…the ones that would be happy to settle down with a family and live a quiet life for the rest of their days. These were people like Tali and Thane. I even put Jack into this group. She puts on a tough front, but only because her past was so hard. She has her students now, and you can already see her softening around the edges. Apparently Liara is settling into this group as well. It looks like she's more than ready to exchange her shadowy alias for a normal life.

"Then there was group number two… those who would go crazy trying to live a quiet life. Whether it's a blessing or a curse, they were born to seek out problems and to solve them. The easy picks were Samara, Mordin, and Grunt. Or look at Garrus. It would have been easy for him to land a cushy job on the bridge of a Turian cruiser after he helped you bring down Saren, but what did he do instead? He went to Omega to become a vigilante…to root out corruption in the darkest, most dangerous piss hole in the galaxy."

"And what about you Miranda. Which group are you in?"

"Which do you think? Do you see me coming home to a little cottage in the countryside? Trading all this chaos for a book and a bath? You said it yourself. I only know how to fight and do paperwork. I'm afraid the quiet life just isn't in the cards for me."

"And what about me?"

"You're going to have to figure that one out for yourself Shepard."

With that the music stopped. Miranda let her arms slip from his neck and walked to a table in a quiet area of the club. Shepard followed and sat down next to her.

"It's nice getting a peek into that mind of yours. You're not exactly an open book most of the time. We'll have to do this again."

"I could never refuse a man in uniform."

Shepard signaled to the bartender to send over two more glasses of Erasa.

After the drinks arrived, Miranda took a quick scan of the immediate area and lowered her voice. "Unfortunately Shepard, I didn't originally come up here for conversation. There is something important that we need to discuss."

Shepard leaned forward in his chair.

"I'm still in contact with some of my sources deep within Cerberus, and I think I've found something important."

"I thought Cerberus was mostly wiped out."

"Most of the fleet is gone, that's true, but the Illusive Man is still active. He has people planted at very influential positions around the galaxy, and it would be a mistake to underestimate him. To make matters worse, I believe that he is now working directly with the Reapers on something big. Something that might explain the unusual Reaper activity we've been seeing lately.

"Unusual activity?"

"Ever since the Quarian-Geth victory at Ranoch, there has been a dramatic shift in Reaper fleet movements. They've halted almost all of their major offensives, and the bulk of their capital ships have completely disappeared. We have no idea where they are or what they're planning."

"So the Reapers have stopped attacking. That sounds like great news."

"I wouldn't count on it. Some of the Illusive Man's most loyal agents are behaving erratically. Whatever his plans are, his people are terrified. These are people that would have followed him to the gates of hell a few days ago, and now they're looking for a way to back out. I don't know Shepard, but I would bet my life that something terrible is on its way to our doorstep, and that the Illusive Man knows about it."

"So what do we do?"

"I have an idea, but it's too sensitive to talk about here. I need you to meet me in private." She leaned forward and slid a small card across the table. "Meet me at this location in two hours, and we'll discuss it."

With that she rose from the table and took a few steps toward the exit.

"Oh and Shepard." He looked up at her. "Thanks for the dance."

* * *

><p>Next: One Shot<p> 


	9. One Shot

Chapter 8: One Shot

* * *

><p>The apartment was in a high-rise on the Lucida Ring. Inspired by the Citadel, like most large orbital stations, Overwatch was essentially a network of stacked rings, rotating around a central axis. Commercial districts and living spaces faced inward, where residents were grounded by the resulting centrifugal force. Docking bays and GUARDIAN defense turrets were oriented outward, in the direction of any potential threats. The Lucida Ring was home to some of the wealthiest humans in the galaxy, as well as the most exclusive commercial establishments.<p>

At the front desk Shepard found a Volus, who directed him to an elevator affixed to one corner of the building. It was designed to ride up along the exterior, thereby providing a view of the surrounding district. Air traffic was not as dense as it would have been before the war, but people would return quickly now that the Reapers had vacated the system.

Shepard found his way to the thirty-fifth floor and down an ornate hallway to reach the room Miranda had designated. The door was coated in a brilliant pearl sheen and had a small digital display by the handle. When he reached out to knock, the display flashed green and the locks disengaged. Apparently the card Miranda had given him was also an electronic key. Shepard pushed open the door.

It was dark inside. The glow from the hallway revealed only a small patch of marble tile directly in front of the door. Shepard could see nothing else.

"Miranda?"

The resulting echo hinted at the size and emptiness of the space. Something was wrong. Shepard drew a heavy pistol, raised it to eye level, and took a cautious step through the door.

"Miranda?" He tried again. This time she responded.

"I'm sorry Shepard."

Before he could process the words, the door was pulled shut behind him, extinguishing what little light had been entering the room. It was all black now, and in the darkness he heard the hiss of a gas valve release, accompanied by an acrid smell. Shepard sprung for the door, but the paralytic agent worked fast. He fell to his knees, then onto his face. Staring into the darkness, unable to move or even close his eyes, he felt a needle pierce the skin on the back of his neck. There was a burning sensation in his veins, and then he passed out.

…

"Wake up."

Shepard woke to a familiar face.

"_You_…" He was still groggy from the sedative. "What do you want?"

"Only to undo a mistake that I made nearly a year ago." The room was brighter now, lit by the orange glow of a quantum entanglement communicator. A life sized projection of the Illusive Man was sitting a few feet from Shepard. Specks of ash falling from his cigarette were fading into nothing as they left the broadcast field. Shepard tried to stand, but his arms and legs were bound to a chair.

"After all Shepard, I don't blame you for your betrayal of Cerberus. When I brought you back from the dead, you became my responsibility. I failed to fully consider the ramifications of that choice. Now I have the opportunity to rectify my lapse in judgment."

"What have you done with Miranda?"

In response the Illusive Man only smiled and tapped his cigarette. "I should have realized a long time ago that your weakness would be the same as that of any hero. You put your trust in the wrong people."

Shepard heard the clicking of heels on the tile. It was almost too painful to look up. Miranda appeared from behind the Illusive Man and paused by his side. She was holding Shepard's gun.

"Miranda has proven to be much wiser than you. She's come to realize that your path and mine lead to very different places. Your stubborn adherence to obsolete ideals can only end in destruction. I, on the other hand, will usher in a new era for humanity."

"Can you even hear yourself? Humanity is already winning the war, along with the rest of the galaxy. Cerberus is over, and you are irrelevant."

This struck a chord that forced the Illusive Man out of his chair. "You are wrong! Even the Reapers have recognized my abilities. I have put a plan into motion that will pave the way for Harbinger's victory, and when the Reapers have demonstrated their dominance over the galaxy, he will grant me a place at his side. Killing you…succeeding where Harbinger has failed, will cement my position as leader of the new order."

"Do you know how many times I've heard this speech? How many times I've listened one of Harbinger's puppets explain just how valuable they are to the Reapers. Believe me; whether you kill me or not, there's only one way this ends for you."

The Illusive Man paused, his eyes searching Shepard's. "Either way Shepard, I'm afraid you won't be around to find out." He nodded to Miranda. "I think it's time to put an end to this little experiment."

Miranda stepped forward. "Not until you meet your side of the bargain. You promised full restoration of my Cerberus privileges. Unlimited access to funding, equipment, and central server databases. Once I have confirmation, I'll take care of Shepard."

The Illusive man brought up a console and waved a hand over the interface. "Full access restored. All of my resources are at your disposal. Welcome back to Cerberus Ms. Lawson."

Miranda lit up an Omni-Tool and verified the information. She seemed satisfied.

"Why are you doing this Miranda? You don't need—"

"What I don't need is an Alliance leash around my neck. Cerberus is true power. I've seen it from both sides Shepard, and I will not spend the rest of my life answering to old men in uniforms. I'm choosing freedom."

"You know that's not where his road ends."

She took a deep breath and raised the pistol to Shepard's head. "I'm sorry Commander, but it looks like we won't be seeing each other at the next reunion."

…

Garrus was walking through a park not far from _Cloud Nine_. The smell of Earth plants had a certain sweetness that helped to clear his head. His fight with Tali had not ended well. She would forgive him of course, but she would make him stew for a while first. With a thud, he plopped down on a park bench. He was left with the sensation that his head was still falling.

"Damn Cipritine beer." He shook it off and propped his arms up behind his head. The simulated sky on the screen above was littered with stars and floating advertisements. When he turned to his right, he realized that his Omni-Tool was flashing. The message was brief.

* * *

><p><strong>Urgent. Shepard in danger. Oceanus Towers: room 3518. Come now!<strong>

**-Sender information encrypted**

* * *

><p>Garrus stared blankly for a moment, and then said aloud, "I'm not nearly sober enough to deal with this right now."<p>

…

The taxi weaved in and out of oncoming traffic, blowing past bystanders and taking the antenna off of a passing freight truck. "Common! Go go go." Garrus sat in the back seat trying frantically to call for backup.

Tali was still not accepting his messages. Grunt and Zaeed had not responded; probably passed out after a drinking contest. Jack had left her communicator at the bar along with most of her uniform. He didn't have Kasumi's contact info; it was well known that no one contacted her; she contacted you. Liara had gone back to the Normandy an hour ago to attend to Broker business. The only way to get in contact with Samara was via the Asari government, and that would take too long.

Garrus rolled down the window and felt the breeze on his face. "This is going to be interesting."

…

Ten minutes later he found himself walking down a hallway toward room 3518 with a heavy pistol drawn, still a little ways from stone sober.

He found the door and paused in front of it. The hallway was eerily silent.

"OK Vakarian. You can do this. Whatever's behind that door, you've seen worse. Shepard needs your help…even if he didn't help you out back at the bar with Tali."

He took a deep breath, and armed the pistol. There was a muted 'click-beep' as the barrel aligned with the chamber, and the knuckle guard locked into place.

"Here we go."

Garrus put all his weight behind a kick that split the door on its hinges. He stepped into the room and swept the area with his gun up and ready. He had not prepared himself for what he found.

There was no one there. No Shepard. No menacing attackers. Just a relatively unremarkable apartment. The room was empty.

Well, almost empty.

There were no people in room 3518, but there was something that got his attention. Propped up against a window in the corner of the room was a rifle, and not just any rifle; a polished, iridium plated M-98 Widow Anti-Material rifle, customized with high-velocity barrel, LOx cooling array, and Therm-Optic scope. The Widow was a gun Garrus had only read about. He imagined that the cost of this model would have rivaled a Turian gunship.

"Damn."

He scanned the room once more to be safe, and then walked over to the weapon. On closer inspection, he noticed that, emblazoned on the stock, were a pair of golden wings; the symbol he had used as the Archangel of Omega.

"What the…?"

As he lifted the rifle from its resting place, he noticed two items on the window sill beside it. One was an earpiece for short range communication. The other was a note.

* * *

><p><strong>500 meters. Dead Ahead. Glass apartment building with exterior elevator. Parallel floor. Second window from the left.<strong>

* * *

><p>He looked up and spotted the building. Lifting the rifle to his shoulder, he peered through the scope.<p>

Sitting in the dimly lit room, he could see a man tied to a chair. His head hung down over his chest. There was no sign of movement.

Garrus set down the rifle and slipped on the ear piece. At first he heard nothing, but with some focus, he detected the sound of steady breathing. He lifted the rifle again and noticed that the sounds correlated with a rise and fall of the man's chest. So he was alive. In the background he heard something else. Footsteps maybe?

Suddenly an orange glow filled the room, and he heard a familiar voice say _"Wake up."_

The man lifted his head. It was Shepard.

""_You…What do you want?"_

"_Only to undo a mistake that I made nearly a year ago." _

Garrus had a good view of Shepard, as well the projection of the Illusive Man, but a third person was standing just out of view, casting a shadow in the orange light.

"_Miranda has proven to be much wiser than you. She's come to realize that your path and mine lead to very different places…"_

Miranda? Garrus did not want to believe it, but a minute later, she stepped in front of the window.

"_Not until you meet your side of the bargain. You promised full restoration of my Cerberus privileges. Unlimited access to funding, equipment, and central server databases. Once I have confirmation, I'll take care of Shepard."_

The reality of the situation was becoming painfully clear for Garrus. He knew what he was going to have to do if this continued. How many times had he fought beside Miranda? How many times had she saved his ass in combat? "Come on Miranda; tell me this is some kind of trick. Don't make me do it."

"_Full access restored. All of my resources are at your disposal. Welcome back to Cerberus Ms. Lawson." _

He disengaged the safety and locked a Tungston round into the chamber.

"_Why are you doing this Miranda? You don't need—"_

He settled the crosshairs on Miranda.

"_What I don't need is an Alliance leash around my neck. Cerberus is true power. I've seen it from both sides Shepard, and I will not spend the rest of my life answering to old men in uniforms. I'm choosing freedom."_

"500 hundred meters. No wind. Compensate for axial rotation. Alright Archangel, one shot."

"_You know that's not where his road ends."_

"Damn it, listen to him!"

"_I'm sorry Commander, but it looks like we won't be seeing each other at the next reunion." _She raised the pistol to Shepard's head.

Garrus pulled the trigger.

* * *

><p>Next: Cheers<p> 


	10. Cheers

Chapter 9: Cheers

* * *

><p>A unanimous sentiment from the crew of the Normandy resulted in Miranda Lawson's name being left off of the memorial plaque on Deck 3. She had turned traitor, and this wall was for heroes. Every name engraved there belonged to a crew member that had stayed true to the cause, even until death.<p>

Garrus's shot had killed Miranda instantly, leaving the Illusive Man standing in front of a subdued Commander Shepard, powerless to carry out the planned execution. He only glared at Shepard for a moment, before ending his transmission and disappearing from the room. Garrus had shown up a few minutes later to cut Shepard's restraints.

The warning message that had been sent to Garrus was untraceable, and there were still no clues as to the origin of the rifle that had been planted for him. The room where Shepard had been ambushed was identified as a Cerberus safe house. Apparently it had been in use by agents of the Illusive Man for years. In addition to the quantum entanglement communicator, there was a small weapons cache and a data storage core. All memory had been wiped clean upon attempts to access the data, and the investigative team salvaged no usable intel.

The owner of the Oceanus Tower complex, an Asari named Theia, informed Shepard that suite 3518 had been purchased just one day ago by a Dr. Aaron Walins. He had paid the full price of the apartment in cash via extranet transfer from an untraceable account. A painstaking search by Liara had revealed no further records of any such person living on Overwatch, or elsewhere in Council space. It was clear that whoever he was, he had played a large role in leading Garrus to the suite, and in orchestrating the shooting. He had known the details of Miranda's trap, and far enough in advance to scout out a vantage point with a good view of the Cerberus safe house. For some reason he wanted Shepard to survive the encounter. Finding him would provide a big piece to the puzzle, but the name was obviously an alias. All leads ran cold.

Shepard sat at his private terminal on deck 1 of the Normandy, rubbing his eyes and thinking about the past few hours. Miranda's belongings had been packed into a footlocker, but as no one was quite sure what to do with it, it sat in the corner behind him. The contents would most likely go to Miranda's only next of kin. Shepard hadn't yet gathered the strength to contact Oriana. She deserved to know what had happened to her sister, but handling the details would be difficult. Oriana had idolized Miranda, and learning about her sister's betrayal would be devastating. He considered whether it would be best to just say that Miranda was lost in combat, and leave it at that.

To further confuse the situation, there was the cryptic statement made by the Illusive Man. He claimed to have found something that would pave the way for a Reaper Victory. Miranda had hinted at something similar at _Cloud Nine_. For all his faults, Shepard had never known the Illusive Man to bluff. He would have to take the threat seriously.

Shepard got up from his desk and walked over to the weapon locker by his bed. Carefully he withdrew the rifle that Garrus had turned over to him. Legitimate weapon manufacturers were required by Council law to imprint each of their products with an identification device that, if salvaged, would allow the weapon to be traced back to its point of origin. Attempts to tamper with this safeguard invariably triggered an automatic and permanent failure of the firing mechanism. Somehow the tracking device on this rifle had been removed without disabling it. Now there was no way to track the sale of the weapon. Another dead end.

He put the rifle back onto a stand and conceded to quit for the night. So much was happening all at once. He decided to go talk to the one person on the Normandy that could always put him at ease, without adding additional drama.

…

"And to whom are we toasting tonight Commander."

"After today, I'll settle for a dreamless sleep."

Dr. Chakwas smiled and lifted her glass. "To a dreamless sleep then."

They laughed and clinked their glasses. Shepard emptied his in one shot.

"Well… it looks like you'll be having that sleep in record time Commander."

"Can you blame me?"

"I suppose not. I just can't get over what happened to Miranda."

"I've seen too many people become indoctrinated for it to surprise me anymore."

"Indoctrinated…I know there's no other explanation for it, but I still can't believe it."

"I thought you always considered her to be cold and self-serving. Sounds like an easy target."

"At one point I might have thought that, but you didn't see her while she was back on the Normandy. I almost didn't recognize her."

"What do you mean?"

"From the moment she stepped onto the bridge, she was so…dedicated to the mission, and to the crew. When things were quiet she would just walk the ship, finding people and asking if there was any way she could make life easier for them. It seemed as if she was trying awfully hard to fill your shoes." Dr. Chakwas leaned forward in her chair and smiled.

"There was one thing that really convinced me though. During the attack on the Reaper near Saturn, when its mass effect core went offline, we flew into some turbulence. Nothing terrible…just knocked us around a bit. Somehow Jeff suffered a stress fracture in his arm."

"Is he alright."

"Oh yes. By now he's used to that sort of thing, and I've gotten quite good at fixing it. But when Miranda heard about it, she came down to my office to ask about his disease. I told her what I could, and offered her access to my files. She sat at that terminal…" Chakwas pointed to a desk behind Shepard. "… and starting digging through all of my extranet sources on Vrolik syndrome. I thought it was a passing curiosity, but she kept on reading, late into the evening. When I came down to the medical bay the next morning, she was still there. She hadn't eaten or slept all night.

"Later that day she disappeared for about an hour, and then came back with the contact information of the chief researcher at a biomedical lab on Arcadia. It was an old contact she had made through her father's company. She explained that the lab was working on collagen regeneration, and that they had discovered a compound that showed astounding promise in the treatment of Vrolik syndrome. The drug was years from large scale production, but the lab would be able to send enough to manage Jeff's symptoms."

Chakwas turned and found an orange, metallic container on the table behind her. She lifted it up and showed it to Shepard. "I gave Jeff his first treatment earlier this week. As of today, his bone density is up 4% and climbing." She put the container back on the table.

"I know indoctrination is subtle Commander, but there are some things that you just can't fake. After watching Miranda sit in the Captain's chair, I would have bet anything on her being with us till the end."

"If it makes you feel any better, she fooled me too."

Chakwas let out a sigh. "Perhaps."

For a while they drank in silence. Shepard stared out the window at the stars passing by in a cool, blue haze. It reminded him of something, but he couldn't place what it was.

After a while he rose and said his goodnights.

"Can I ask you a favor Commander?"

"Always."

"Since you have so greedily managed to polish off my last bottle of top-shelf brandy, I was wondering if you could be so kind as to requisition me another one when you get a chance. What sort of medical bay would this be if it were completely dry."

"You do like to keep your patients comfortable."

"Always."

…

As expected, the conversation with Chakwas had helped immeasurably. Shepard fell onto his bed and looked up through the skylight. There were so many unanswered questions, but they could wait untill morning. Before he allowed himself to fall asleep, Shepard thought of one thing that he could take care of first. He pushed out of bed and made his way over to his private terminal. He scrolled down the list of Normandy supply bays until he came to Medical. Once he found it, he began to type.

* * *

><p><strong>1 bottle of Serrice Ice Brandy<strong>

* * *

><p>He immediately deleted the entry.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>1 <strong>_**case**_** of Serrice Ice Brandy—Transferable to Normandy Medical Bay. Sectional Chief: Karin Chakwas, MD. Deliv—**

* * *

><p>He stopped typing mid sentence and stared at what he had written.<p>

**Karin Chakwas, M.D.**

The entry triggered a connection in his mind, but it took a minute to pin it down.

**M.D.**

"Son of a bitch."

He pressed the intercom. "Trainer."

"Commander."

"I need you to pull up a copy of the leasing agreement for the Oceanus Towers 3518, the room where Garrus found the rifle."

"Got it."

"The owner of the building told me that the room was purchased yesterday by a Dr. Walins."

"Yes that's correct."

"Trainer, how _exactly_ is the name written on the lease."

"_Aaron Walins, M.D."_

Shepard copied the name down onto a pad on his desk and stared at it.

**A A R O N W A L I N S M D**

"You've got to be kidding me."

The revelation answered so many questions, but raised even more. Shepard's train of thought was cut off by Specialist Trainer's voice on the intercom.

"_Commander, a new message just came in for you."_

"Not right now."

"_Trust me; you're going to want to see this. And you're not going to believe who it's from."_

* * *

><p>Next: Something Worth Dying For<em><br>_


	11. Something Worth Dying For

Chapter 10: Something Worth Dying For

* * *

><p>"Can you forward the message to my private terminal?"<p>

"I can, but you should know that it's not a message exactly. It's a program."

"A program?"

"A VI, to be specific. It has been programmed to respond to you, and no one else. The captain's cabin is equipped with the hardware to run it. Just accept the message and activate the VI. Projection will begin automatically."

"Thank you Trainer."

The new message appeared in his inbox.

* * *

><p><strong>To: Commander Shepard, Systems Alliance<strong>

**From: Miranda Lawson**

**Subject: Urgent**

* * *

><p>Shepard downloaded the attached activation sequence to his Omni-Tool. The Normandy registered the information, and the holographic display above his desk projected the image.<p>

Standing in front of him was a life-sized version of Miranda Lawson. As a linear stream of blue light, cast from the projector, ran up and down Shepard's body, his identity was confirmed, the VI was unlocked, and the simulated Miranda began to speak.

"Hello Shepard. I'm sure you have a few questions for me."

"That's an understatement."

"Alright then, let's start with the basics. I'm sure you figured out by now that I was the one who bought the apartment and planted the rifle for Garrus."

"The alias was a nice touch."

"I couldn't resist giving you something to work with." She smiled and shifted on her feet. "Look Shepard, I want you to know that I'm sorry things had to happen the way that they did. Believe me when I say that I spent a great deal of time trying to find an alternative solution."

"A solution to what exactly? All you did was get yourself killed. What was the point?"

"I can see how it would look that way, but assuming everything went according to plan, I did accomplish my mission. I convinced the Illusive Man to give me unlimited access to the Cerberus central servers."

"How could that possibly have been worth dying for? What information does he have that we need?"

"I don't know the specifics exactly, but I _can_ tell you what I've figured out so far. A few days after the battle for Earth, I caught wind of a Cerberus initiative called Project Horizon. I wasn't able to uncover any details, only that the Illusive Man was convinced that successful completion of the project would guarantee victory for the Reapers. I might have written him off as delusional, but just as whispers of the project were beginning to spread through Cerberus, there was a dramatic shift in Reaper activity. It seemed that the Reapers were as convinced as he was. I wouldn't have gone through with my plan if I had doubted the importance of this information. It is essential that you use my Cerberus access to discover the aim of Project Horizon."

"Even if we needed the access, why arrange the shooting? Once your clearance was restored, you could have just untied me and walked away."

"Not an option. He would have revoked my access on the spot. We would have gained nothing by doing that. The Illusive man needed to leave that room, still believing that I was loyal to the end."

"If you had worked with us, we could have faked the shooting. We could have—

"Not a chance. You see, a few years ago there was an incident in which a senior member of Cerberus tried to defect. He wanted out, and he chose to cover his desertion by faking his own death. As a result, every agent, including you, is now surgically implanted with a device that monitors vital signs and transmits them in real time. The Illusive Man knows which of his people are alive at any given moment. I considered an attempt to mask my signal, but he would have seen through that. The plan could only work if one of us actually died in that room."

"Why not try to hack into the Cerberus servers and just take the information."

"I considered that as well, but the Cerberus firewall is virtually impenetrable. I know because I worked with the team that designed it. I originally came back to the Normandy because I thought that EDI might be up to the task. I was optimistic because her cyber warfare system is Reaper based. However, when I asked her to estimate the odds of success, every simulation she ran ended in failure. She concluded that it would be impossible to take the information by force.

"So EDI knew what you were up to. Why didn't she tell me?"

"I convinced her that it would be better to keep you in the dark. You have a tendency to attack problems head on. If the Illusive Man ever suspected that you were aware of Project Horizon, I would have never been able to gain his trust. We would have lost our chance."

"OK, so you still have his trust, but once Cerberus verifies you're death, won't your access be revoked?"

"Excellent question. It's true that once an agent is killed in action, his or her access codes are flagged as 'expired.' Fortunately, I found a loophole."

"How exactly?"

"That took some creativity. I mentioned that I worked with the team that designed Cerberus's data security. I remembered that expired codes are invalidated on a twenty four hour clock. In other words, every twenty four hours, the Cerberus network automatically assembles a list of all agents killed during that cycle. Then, all at once, their codes are expired, and a new cycle begins. I timed my message to Garrus so that he would fire his shot right at the beginning of a new cycle."

"So that means—"

"It means that my new access codes will be valid for approximately 24 hours after my death. That was …four hours ago, giving you 20 hours to make your way to the nearest Cerberus server core and to access the details of Project Horizon."

"But—"

"But you don't know where the cores are located. Don't worry Shepard. Along with my access codes, I've attached the locations of three Cerberus bases. Each contains a server core. Any of them will do, but the one in the Gorgon system is the least defended. I would head there. A surprise attack with an Alliance strike force, along with a few handpicked commandos is the way to go. Catch them with their pants down."

"Wait. Just wait a minute. I need to—"

"There's no time to wait Shepard. The clock is ticking, and I can only do this trick once."

"But—"

"No buts. No regrets. I know you don't approve of the way I handled this, but you have to realize that there was no other way. I'm happy with the way things turned out, and I would do it again if I had to. When you give a person something worth living for, you risk giving them something worth dying for too. I believe you can win this war Shepard. I believe that when you come face to face with Harbinger in the final battle, you will defeat him. I believe that when you do, the galaxy will go back to normal…that Tali will build her house on Ranoch… that Liara will go back to Thessia and raise a family… that Jack will return to her students… that people all across the galaxy will have a chance to live out their fairytale lives. Who knows, even you might find happiness in a quiet corner of space somewhere. But, you and I both know that that sort of ending wasn't meant for me. I was meant for a purpose, and thanks to you, I found it."

"I just—"

"What did I say about regrets? Now get your team together and move out. There's still a war going on, and no one's going to pause it so that you can sit around and cry over a Cerberus cheerleader. Just give my regards to the rest of the team. Oh, and tell Garrus that the rifle is a gift. It didn't seem fair to involve him in this. It was the least I could do. And tell him there's a gift in the chamber for the Illusive Man…if he gets the opportunity to give it."

* * *

><p>Next: Payback<p> 


	12. Payback

Chapter 11: Payback

* * *

><p>"Phantom!"<p>

Ensign Hewitt of the Systems Alliance lifted his assault rifle and fired at the figure weaving towards him. The first burst went wide, and the Cerberus creation continued to close in on him. The second burst sizzled ineffectively against its defensive barrier. In one smooth motion, the phantom tucked its sword behind its back, bent low and lunged toward him. He fired again, but the target was too small; too agile. Ten meters now. He needed more distance. He took a step backward, but his heel caught a ridge in the floor. He hit the ground hard and lost his grip on the rifle. It slid down the hallway and out of his reach. The Phantom was almost on him now. He turned on his stomach and stretched for his weapon, but failed to cover the distance. As he rolled over, he heard the backstroke of a sword cutting through the air above him. There was no time. He shut his eyes and waited for the inevitable.

After what seemed like a lifetime, Ensign Hewitt realized that he was still breathing. He opened his eyes and saw the Phantom standing over him with sword raised. The creature was perfectly still and bathed in a shimmering white glow. Drenched in a cold sweat, and trembling with fear, the Ensign scrambled to his feet and turned to run away. Without looking where he was going, his first step sent him crashing into someone who had been standing behind him.

It would have been hard not to recognize her. She was the commando that the troops called Subject Zero. Stories of her raw biotic power were legendary. Hewitt had run straight into her, and now she was staring him in the eyes. Hers were brown and deep. For a moment he was too intimidated to move. Then, in a flash of embarrassment, he realized that his palm was resting flat against her bare midriff. He withdrew it immediately and took a step backward, tumbling over the same ridge that had tripped him earlier, and landing back on the floor. She just grinned and stepped around him toward the Phantom.

"It's called a stasis field." She said, bringing her face to within inches of the Phantom's. She stared for a moment into the four red lights that served as eyes. "Pretty cool, huh?"

Hewitt had trouble finding his voice. He had been trained that proximity to a Phantom was synonymous with death. He was not ready to admire it.

Subject Zero placed a hand on the hilt of the sword and carefully slid it out of the Phantom's grasp. In response it let out a sequence of electronic tones resembling a shriek.

"So what's your name?"

"Um… me?"

"Yes, you. Got one?"

"Yes sir…ma'am… um Hewitt. Nathan Hewitt."

Subject Zero brandished the sword in a few exaggerated swings, testing the weight. "What do you think Nate? Can I pull this look off?"

"I'm not sure what you—"

"The sword Nate. I kind of like it. Think it suits me?" She struck a pose with her back arched and the sword tucked behind it.

"Well I—"

"Be honest. I'm not going to use it on you."

"In that case…well…um… it might not _exactly_ be your style."

She let out an enthusiastic laugh. "Hah. I like you Nate. You're probably right."

Carrying the sword with her, Subject Zero walked back over to the phantom, held the blade straight out, and rested it gently on the nape of its neck. Another electronic shriek rang out in protest.

Just then, she was interrupted by a call on her earpiece.

"_Jack, how's it going over there?"_

"Armory's clear. Just mopping up. You won't have any more trouble on your left flank." She glanced down at Hewitt. "By the way Shepard, these Alliance troops are adorable. I think I want to keep this one."

"_They're trained soldiers Jack, not puppies."_

"Whatever you say boss."

"_Anything else to report?"_

"No…unless Nate wants to say hi. Want to say hi Nate? Nope, Nate doesn't want to say hi."

"_Just stop messing around and get back here."_

Subject Zero looked back at Hewitt and shrugged her shoulders. "Jeeze. Some people are just rude." With that, she grabbed the sword in both hands, raised it high, and sliced off the Phantom's head with a single swing.

"OK, we're done here."

…

The tungsten round ripped clear through the centurion's shields, pierced its armor, and buried itself deep in a wall on the other side. Garrus ejected a thermal clip and smiled.

"This rifle packs more punch than an Irish Krogan."

"What is that even supposed to mean?" Tali asked, ducking behind the wall next to him.

"I'm not sure exactly. I heard it from a human back on Earth. Sounded funny at the time."

"You are ridiculous. Besides, rifles are for grunts. I'll show you a real punch." She entered a command into her Omni-tool, and watched as an Atlas Mech involuntarily stopped in place, turned to face its support troops and discharged a round from its cannon. The troops were decimated, and the survivors scattered in retreat. "Match that Vakarian."

"Those kills count for the Mech, not for you."

"As long as I'm controlling it, they're all mine."

"Alright then." Garrus shrugged, lifted the Widow to his shoulder, and sent a round through the Atlas's fuel tank. The resulting detonation vaporized the chassis and left a column of thick, black smoke in its place.

"Bosh'tet!" Tali punched him in the arm.

"What? Upset that you lost your toy? I'm just a grunt shooting at bad guys, remember?"

Before Tali could respond, she heard Shepard's voice.

"_How are you holding up Tali? Need any backup?"_

Garrus answered for her. "Take your time Shepard. We could do this all day. I don't know if Cerberus is getting lazier, or if I'm just that good, but fighting them isn't even challenging anymore."

"_Try not to get too bored out there. Liara and I are on our way to the server room. Prep for dust-off in ten."_

"Roger that."

…

Lieutenant Commander Gerard Spikes reached the top of the hill to find a contingent of Alliance soldiers standing outside of the door leading to the Cerberus research lab. He had expected the lab to be secured by now. "What's the story Sergeant? Is the door sealed?"

"No sir, we got the door open, but we can't go in that way. Resistance is too heavy. "

"Son, Commander Shepard has asked us to secure the server room, and the only route to the server room is through this lab. What sort of resistance are we talking about?"

"Mostly just shock troopers sir, but a lot of them, and they're dug in tight. Shield pylons and barriers all over the place. A few turrets too. They've got everything trained on this door. Anyone who walks through it is going to get torn apart."

Spikes took a deep breath and wiped the sweat from his brow. He hated fighting Cerberus. Their troops were ruthless, and very difficult to match in a shootout. If the Sergeant's report was accurate, he might very well be sending his men into a bloodbath. However, he was not about to let his commander down. "Listen up! We need to get everyone through this door as quickly as possible. That means you run. Don't stop to think, don't stop to tie your shoelaces, don't even stop to check on your buddy. You run, and you keep running. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes sir!"

"Once you're inside the atrium, fan out and get behind cover. Not near cover, not in the proximity of cover. Behind cover! The people we're up against do not miss. If you show them a target, they will hit it. Anyone with disrupter ammo, light it up now. Rodriguez, grab the Revenant and lay down covering fire. Cole, we are going to need those turrets down fast. It's your job to drain the shields, while Hicks sets up—"

"Perhaps it would be easier if I handled this." The voice came from a gunship landing pad on the roof behind them. Spikes turned to see an Asari in red armor step off of the pad and float gently to the ground. She was not wearing Alliance colors. A few of his troops aimed their weapons at her, but she showed no signs of hostility.

"Look ma'am, I'm not exactly sure who you are but—"

"I will be quick. Please keep your men at a safe distance."

Without another word, she activated the blast door, stepped casually through, and closed it behind her.

Spikes was stunned speechless. He raised an emergency line. "Commander Shepard sir, we just met up with an Asari over by the lab and… well I don't know who she is or what she was thinking, but she just stepped into a Cerberus shit-storm all by herself. How do you want me to handle this?"

_"She's on our side Lieutenant-Commander. Just try and keep out of her way."_

"Well I hope you weren't too attached, because I think we've seen the last of her. That lab was armed to the teeth."

"_Don't worry about her. She's very good at what she does."_

"And what exactly does she do?"

"_To sum it up Lieutenant-Commander… she kills people."_

From within the lab came the deafening screech of twisting metal. The ground rumbled slightly, and then every concavity in the blast door bulged out toward the waiting troops.

Over the radio, Garrus added _"a lot of people."_

…

Shepard stared over Liara's shoulder as she ran through the terminal interface.

"I'm almost there."

"Take your time Liara. We're ahead of schedule. Miranda's codes will be valid for another five hours."

Liara brought up screen after screen, copying everything to her private files as she went. "Shepard I don't believe this. We have access to everything… troop movements, research data, lists of undercover agents...everything!" She brought up another page. "This is a list of public officials that are working for the Illusive Man. I had no idea how high his influence went. And it's not just humans. I see members of the Turian Hierarchy, Hanar Councilors, and even a Salarian Dalatrass. He has them all blackmailed into submission."

"And now we can put them all in jail. Have you found anything on Project Horizon?"

"Not yet, but I… wait, here it is."

On the screen, the files were replaced by a large galactic map, overlaid with schematics that Shepard did not understand. As Liara manipulated the interface, information began pouring across the screen, too quickly for him to make sense of it. Liara seemed to be taking it all in, but was silent as she read. All Shepard could glean from watching her work, was that the images were focused around the Omega-4 relay. He saw depictions of Reaper Capital ships but was not able to deduce their importance.

It was a while before Liara remarked "Wait, but that doesn't make sense…they would have to..."

Apparently she was thinking out loud, because she went back to reading quietly. As she worked, Shepard thought he detected a look of increasing anxiety in her eyes. Eventually Liara sat back in her chair and looked up at him.

"Goddess…Miranda was right."

* * *

><p>Next: Project Horizon<p> 


	13. Project Horizon

Chapter 12: Project Horizon

* * *

><p>Shepard took a seat next to Admiral Hackett.<p>

"How much do you know about this Shepard?"

"Just the basics. She's been running simulations with EDI all night. I know that she's nervous, and that makes me nervous."

"Might as well add me to the list then."

The door opened and Dr. Liara T'Soni entered with EDI trailing behind her. She walked to the head of the table and nodded to the assembled party. Shepard had promised an audience, and he had delivered. Since the beginning of the Reaper invasion, he had gained unparalleled credibility with the galactic community. When he insisted on the meeting, almost everyone heeded the call.

Liara opted to forgo introductions. "As you are all aware, I am here to discuss the details and implications of the Cerberus initiative titled 'Project Horizon.'"

Liara signaled to EDI, who brought up a galaxy map at the center of the table. "An Alliance team, under the directive of Commander Shepard, recently obtained access to highly sensitive data files from a Cerberus base in the Gorgon system."

"And how exactly were you able to procure this information?" The question came from a turian general named Tibrus. "Cerberus specializes in secrecy and misinformation. How can we be sure that your data is genuine?"

Shepard answered. "The details are still classified, but I _can_ vouch for my source. The information you are about to see required tremendous sacrifice to obtain. It has my complete confidence."

"And mine." Said Primarch Victus. "The Hierarchy stands behind you Shepard." He shot Tibrus a scolding look. The general nodded and was silent. "Go ahead Dr. T'Soni."

"Thank you. Among the data, we found a series of reports filed by Cerberus reconnaissance teams. Apparently Cerberus has been using the Omega 4 relay to travel to the galactic core."

"For what purpose?" Asked the salarian counselor.

"At first, their primary objective was salvaging Reaper technology from the wreckage of the Collector Base. The Cerberus fleet worked for months to comb through the debris field, carting Reaper materials back through the relay. The resulting research led to profound scientific advances, mostly military in nature. Some of these included the Phantom and Nemesis projects. As many of you know, Cerberus was even able to reassemble the Reaper larva that was originally destroyed by Commander Shepard and his team."

Liara zoomed in on the projection to gain a better view of the galactic core.

"It wasn't until recently, that a Cerberus scouting unit found these." The map zoomed in further, centering on a number of large metallic structures. "Cerberus is calling them mass anchors."

"They look like relays." Hackett remarked.

"The technology is similar, but unlike relays, these devices are not paired, and therefore cannot be used for transport. Instead, they function as immensely powerful mass effect cores. They create a sort of repulsion field that pushes out against all nearby objects, similar to the way a biotic may push away enemies."

"So what are they doing there?"

"Their purpose is to maintain a habitable zone at the galactic core. In its natural state, the center of a galaxy is occupied by super-massive black holes and a high density of stars. The forces acting there are extreme, and conditions are incompatible with life. Attempts to settle an area like that would be doomed to failure. For whatever reason, the Reapers decided it was worth the effort to create a haven in the middle of all that chaos.

"The mass anchors, as you can see, are arranged in a spherical network, roughly the size of a solar system. The area within the sphere is shielded by the repulsive forces around it, and can be safely traveled. The Omega 4 relay leads to the exact center of the sphere. The Collector base was also not far from the center. There's no way to tell how long the anchors have been there. We know they were protecting the Collectors, but the Reapers may have been using the area for hundreds of cycles before."

"Where does Project Horizon come in?" Asked Victus.

"As soon as the Illusive Man discovered the anchors, he started toying with the idea of manipulating them. I found thousands of simulations on his computer. At first he was studying the effects of destroying an anchor. As this simulation shows…" Liara gestured to EDI, and the galaxy map came alive with movement. "Destroying a single mass anchor disrupts the balance of the entire sphere. The network falls apart, and all of the other anchors are pulled into surrounding black holes. The safe zone is lost, and the galactic core collapses back to its natural state."

"How would that affect us?" The question came from Wrex.

"There would be no noticeable effects for the rest of the galaxy. Our galaxy is over one hundred thousand light years across. A collapse of the Reaper safe zone would result in a relatively tiny ripple for the rest of us."

"So what's the problem?"

"In his next round of simulations, the Illusive Man tried something much more dangerous. He realized that, because the anchors use Element Zero to work, it should be possible to reverse their fields. Just as a biotic can turn a repulsion field into an attraction one, or a push into a pull, he considered turning the anchors into giant singularities. His simulations showed that reversing just one anchor would have the same effect as destroying it. The network would be thrown off balance and collapse. However, if every single anchor were reversed simultaneously, the network would unleash an incomparable gravitational pull."

"And that's bad?"

"Yes Wrex. The pull would only last for a fraction of a second, before the anchor network imploded, but the force would be immense. Unlike the tiny ripple I described earlier. The anchors would send out a powerful shockwave at the speed of light. There are too many variables to predict the outcome exactly, but I can say with certainty that the entire galactic landscape would be altered. Every planet would be affected. Some would be shifted only a few thousand miles in their orbits. Others would come crashing into stars, or go flying out into space. Garden worlds would become wastelands, while gas giants move within their frost lines."

"In other words, the end of all life."

"Not exactly. It's true that the event would spell extinction for many species, but others should be able to weather the storm and adapt to the new landscape. More advanced civilizations would most likely be thrown into chaos. On odds alone, I would guess that Earth, Palaven, Thessia, Sur'Kesh, and the homeworlds of many other dominant species, would be completely destroyed. Those that survive would be cast into a primal age, with no way to defend against the Reapers. It would be the end of the war."

There was a silence in the room as the concept sunk in.

"Do you believe that the Reapers have the capabilities to carry out this plan?" Asked the asari counselor.

"I believe Project Horizon has already begun. Stage one of the plan calls for a Sovereign-class ship to dock with each of the anchors. The data indicates that stage one has already been completed. The Reapers are now synching their mass effect cores for the reversal process."

"So we've lost?"

"Not yet. Fortunately the anchors operate with huge amounts of energy, even relative to a Reaper. Reversing the fields will take time."

"How much time?"

"This is something that has never happened before, so it's impossible to know exactly. If I had to guess, I would say between 48 and 72 hours from now."

Hackett stood up. "What do you need us to do?"

"There is only one thing we can do. We need to destroy one of the mass anchors. They are balanced against one another, so if we eliminate one, the rest will follow."

"So we mobilize the fleets. Throw everything we've got at them. We beat them at Earth, and we can do it again."

"Unfortunately that's not an option this time. After Shepard destroyed the Collector base, the Alliance saw no reason to ever use the Omega 4 relay again. While Cerberus was making replicas of the Reaper IFF, the Alliance didn't bother. There is now only one ship in our fleet that can safely travel to the galactic core: the SSV Normandy."

There was a loud rumble of overlapping voices. Victus called for quiet and asked "how many Reaper ships are on the other side of the relay?"

"There are one hundred mass anchors in the network, and at least one Capital ship per anchor."

Wrex let out a laugh. "Sounds like a fair fight to me."

"I should also mention that the Reapers are aware that the Normandy has a functional IFF. They will most likely maintain a heavy defense around Omega 4 relay, with the specific intent of preventing the Normandy's passage."

"OK Liara, let me get this straight." Wrex leaned back in his chair. "We have to send a single ship through a wall of Reapers, so that it can make its way to the most hostile environment imaginable, where at least a hundred other Reapers are waiting for it. Then, the crew will have to destroy an object that we have never seen before, and have no idea how to destroy. Then, in order to have any hope of survival, that crew will have to make their way back through the relay, before they are crushed by a thousand black holes at the center of the galaxy."

"That about sums it up Wrex."

"Hah!" He let out another laugh, reached across the table, and smacked Shepard on the back. "Well I'm in."

* * *

><p>Next: The Best Laid Plans<p> 


	14. The Best Laid Plans

Chapter 13: The Best Laid Plans

* * *

><p>"Shepard, our scouting reports indicate that the bulk of the Reaper fleet has, in fact, congregated around the Omega 4 relay." Hackett's voice came through the communicator in the Normandy's cockpit. "They've established a defensive perimeter, composed mainly of destroyers. Their capital ships must be on the other side of the relay, as Dr. T'Soni suggested."<p>

"Could our fleet punch a hole in the formation?"

"Almost definitely. For once we've got them outgunned, but it would take time, possibly more than we have.

"We can try to sneak past them." Joker suggested. "Take advantage of the stealth drive."

EDI answered _"That will not work. Experience suggests that Reaper ships are capable of visual scanning. Furthermore, their prime directive is to prevent the Normandy from accessing the relay. They would likely detect our approach and intercept us."_

"What about a diversion?" Asked Hackett. "We could send the fleet in first, then call for the Normandy once fighting begins."

"_As long as the Normandy is their top priority, it will be impossible to divert their attention completely. Even in the middle of a battle, we would be spotted at long range."_

"So we need a way to get her in close, without being seen."

The discussion continued for some time, with EDI shooting down ideas as quickly as they were introduced. Shepard spent the majority of the discussion looking distracted, and finally chimed in.

"Admiral, what can you tell me about the SSV McKinley? I overheard some cadets talking about it."

"The McKinley was a failed concept Shepard. She's sitting out by the Arcturus relay because no one wants to take her into battle."

"I want to know the details."

"The idea came from Rear Admiral Mikhailovich. Traditionally, an Everest Class dreadnaught is centered around a large mass accelerator cannon that runs nearly the length of the ship. Mikhailovich decided to create an exaggerated prototype, with a cannon five times the caliber of the standard model. It fires enormous rounds and has an unrivaled range. His strategy was to bring the McKinley out to the periphery of a battle and devastate the enemy from afar. When the war started, he nicknamed it the 'Reaper Buster.'"

"But it didn't work?"

"No. The cannon is immensely powerful, but it's no good in a real fight."

"Why not?"

"First of all it weighs the ship down, and makes aim adjustment too sluggish. It also takes too long to reload. The first time he took it into battle, the Reapers danced around it as if it weren't even there. We almost lost the McKinley and her crew without hitting a single target. Biggest waste of resources I've ever seen."

"How big is it?"

"The ship is over twelve hundred meters long with—"

"No, I mean what is the diameter of the cannon itself."

"Huge. The body of the accelerator would have to be at least sixty meters wide. At the external opening, a focusing cap narrows the diameter to about twenty meters. The actual slug is much smaller, and is suspended in an electromagnetic field throughout its course. The dramatic size of the chamber allows for generation of a more powerful field, adding velocity to the shot."

Shepard sketched something out on a data pad and closed his eyes for a minute. When he opened them he had a smile on his face. To no one in particular he posed the question, "What would you do if someone pointed a gun that big at you?"

"Piss my pants, sir?" Came Joker's reply.

Shepard rolled his eyes. "Or…"

EDI responded. _"Or… you would move out of the way."_

"Exactly. Admiral Hackett, I need you to mobilize the McKinley. Oh, and call in as many engineering and construction teams as you can spare. We are going to make a few modifications."

"Understood. I'll send the order. Hackett out."

The communication ended, and Shepard looked at the time. "The meeting with the delegates reconvenes in one hour. I'm going to go speak with Liara. We still need to come up with a way to destroy the anchor."

…

"I'm not sure what sort of resistance we can expect on the other side of the relay Shepard. Almost all of the remaining capital ships should be busy trying to reverse the anchors, but I can't predict what sort of support they will have."

"There's no avoiding the trip Liara. The best we can hope for is that they'll be overconfident in their blockade of Omega 4. If Reapers have a weakness, it's that they don't know how to deal with failure. Assuming we survive our exit through the relay, what next?"

"We use the Illusive Man's data to chart a course for whichever anchor is the least defended."

"Once we find the anchor, how do we destroy it?"

Liara stood up from her desk and shook her head. "The architecture is similar to that of a mass relay. I imagine you would have to treat it the same way."

"Unless you have an asteroid rigged with rocket thrusters, that's going to be a problem."

"I'm afraid I don't." She paced a few steps and turned towards him. "Although theoretically, any large object would do. The difficulty in destroying a relay comes from the fact that it will transport almost anything thrown at it. You need to exceed the transport capacity to allow for an impact. An anchor, on the other hand, has no transport capacity. As long as it is approached from within the protected zone, any object set on a collision course should come into contact with it."

"How big of an object would we need to destroy it?"

"Something of comparable mass to an Alliance cruiser should be sufficient. But then again, this is all theoretical."

"We know that there are hundreds of derelict cruisers in the debris field. Would it be possible to send one of them crashing into an anchor?"

Liara started pacing again. "The Normandy is not currently equipped with a tow cable, but it would be easy to install one." She stopped in place. "In an area devoid of gravitational pull, it should be possible to latch on to a derelict cruiser and drag it towards an anchor. Once the course was set, we could detach and fly to safety, while the cruiser continued into its target."

"So we use the cruiser as a wrecking ball. Sounds like a plan."

"My only concern is that there will be a Reaper perched on the anchor. It might have an opportunity to destroy the incoming ship before impact."

"If that's your only concern Liara, you're braver than I am."

…

"Take a look at this Shepard."

Shepard stood in the main battery room staring at a sequence of numbers cycling on the Thanix control panel. "What exactly am I looking at Tali?"

"While you were meeting with the Liara, I received a transmission from the Quarian Applied Defense Council. Our scientists back at the flotilla have been working with the Geth to develop mutually beneficial technologies. Most of the results involve things that probably wouldn't interest you; immuno-modulators, terraforming agents, biofilm manipulation–"

"Tali, you know I love having these talks, but I've got to get back to the meeting."

"OK, OK. I'm getting to the point. Ever since Legion updated the Geth with their improved AI code, the breakthroughs have been coming at a staggering pace. I brought you down here to discuss something that they discovered by accident."

"Since their initial occupation of Rannoch, the Geth have made a habit of collecting and cataloging the planet's wildlife. One of the organisms they found was a species of bacteria isolated from a deep ocean thermal vent. The bacterium is harmless to Quarians, so it was suggested that it be introduced into the Quarian population. This way we might establish a symbiotic flora that would help us fight pathogenic organisms. We were skeptical at first, but a series of in vitro culture demonstrations—"

"Tali I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Keelah, I wish Mordin were here. Just try and listen. The plan was put into motion, and the bacteria began to colonize much of Rannoch's surface. The interesting part occurred when spores were found on the hull of the Reaper we destroyed there."

"What happened?"

"The spores were found to be eroding into the Reaper armor. They were chewing it to pieces, albeit very slowly."

"Are you suggesting we turn this into some sort of biological weapon?"

No. The process would take forever, and as soon as the Reaper left the atmosphere, all the bacteria would die."

"So how does this help us?"

"Up until now, we have had no idea what sort of metal the Reapers are made from. We only know that it is tougher than any naturally occurring ore. All attempts at chemical analysis have failed, as we have had no way to separate the armor into its component parts. However, this bacterium allows precisely that. The Geth have just broadcasted a detailed analysis of the substance. In other words, we know exactly what the Reapers are made of. The implications are fascinating."

"So what am I doing in the battery?"

"If you had spent as much time around Garrus as I have, you would know that the Thanix cannon can be calibrated for increased effectiveness, depending on the makeup of the target armor. I have reconfigured the Normandy's weapons systems so that they will do maximum damage to Reaper targets. And the difference won't be subtle either. We will pack more punch than an Irish Krogan…although I still don't understand what that expression means. Does—"

"Tali."

"Yes."

"Are you saying that you calibrated the Normandy's guns."

"Yes."

"Does Garrus know about this?"

"No. Why?"

"I'll be seeing you at the bar later."

…

The meeting reconvened after the break, with Shepard at the head of the table.

He looked out at the assembled leaders and said "You all understand the situation, and you've heard the obstacles we face. I'll get right to the point.

"We are looking at the mission in terms of three stages. Stage one; we get the Normandy past the Reaper blockade of the Omega 4 relay, securing safe passage to the galactic core. Stage two; either by stealth or by force, the Normandy makes its way to one of the mass anchors and destroys it. Stage three; upon disruption of the barrier field, the gravitational force of the surrounding super-massive black holes will collapse toward the relay at the speed of light in all directions. The Normandy will outrun this collapse at FTL speeds and make it back through the relay. I am aware that this outline raises many questions, which the following demonstration should answer.

He pressed a few keys on his Omni-tool, and a holographic illustration appeared at the center of the table. A series of images depicting the elements of Shepard's strategy appeared and progressed in sequence. The group watched in complete silence as the plan was revealed. Even Wrex found himself speechless. When the presentation was over, Shepard leaned forward and placed both hands on the table.

"That's the best I've got. If anyone has a better idea, now's the time to speak up."

More silence. Shepard looked from face to face. The despair was palpable.

"I know that the outcome looks bleak. I know that what I'm asking seems impossible. But as we go on to prepare for this final mission, consider what this day means. The fact that Project Horizon is in effect proves that the Reapers are desperate. Just weeks ago they held dominion over the galaxy. Now they are beaten and scared. For countless millennia they have counted on division and fear, but we've shown them unity and strength. Our peoples have accomplished what has never been done before. We have beaten them at their own game. Now they seek to change the rules. We will not let that happen."

Shepard looked over at Admiral Hackett. "Stand fast, stand strong…"

Hacket rose from his seat. "Stand Together."

He turned to Wrex. "Stand fast, stand strong…"

Wrex knocked his chair back on the floor. "Stand Together!"

"Stand fast! Stand Strong!"

The group stood and shouted as one. "Stand Together!"

Shepard surveyed the assembly. He could see the fear in their eyes, but he also saw resolve. Their homeworlds had been invaded, their families threatened, their loved ones killed, and now their very existence held in jeopardy. An entire galaxy rich with culture and life was being held at the brink of extermination by a cold and calculating enemy. Yes they were tired, but they were also fed up. This was an insult no citizen of the galaxy would stand to bear. They would fight, and somehow, despite the odds, he knew they could win.

* * *

><p>Next: The Hunt<p> 


	15. The Hunt

Chapter 14: The Hunt

* * *

><p>Twenty four hours before the attack, the Normandy was quiet. Shepard found himself wandering the ship, unable to sleep. He walked down to engineering and into the drive core. He put his hands on the railing and felt it shudder with the pulsations of the containment field.<p>

On his way back to the elevator, he listened to the impact of Zaeed's knives on the wall of the starboard cargo area. Thud…Thud…Thud...

He rode up to deck three and sat at a table in the mess hall. The room was quiet and dark. Gardner had closed the kitchen and gone to bed hours ago. For a while Shepard just sat, staring into nothing and thinking about the battle ahead. Eventually he rose and began the walk back to his cabin.

On his way, he stopped to look at the Normandy's memorial plaque. He ran a finger across the embossed surface, and over the two newest names.

* * *

><p><strong>David Anderson<strong>

**Miranda Lawson**

* * *

><p>When he heard something move behind him, he withdrew his hand.<p>

"How long have you been there?"

He heard the sizzle of a cloak deactivation.

"You heard me? I must be losing my touch." Kasumi Goto walked up beside him and surveyed the plaque.

"Do you always walk around the ship cloaked?"

"Only when I see something interesting. You looked like you had something on your mind. I was trying to guess what it was. Care to talk about it."

"I could probably use the conversation."

They walked into starboard observation and sat down. Through the window, the stars seemed to hang motionless. Shepard noted that the last of the emissary ships had left. The Normandy was drifting alone.

"So what's bothering you? Nervous about the attack?"

"A little, but that's not what's bothering me. I was just thinking about something Grunt said to me back on Earth. He was explaining that sometimes, for the sake of the mission, a leader has to push people into situations that they're not ready for. He said that you can't be tolerant of weakness when the cause in on the line. That got me thinking about how many people I have convinced to follow me over the years. How many people have died for the sake of my cause? I truly believe in what I am trying to accomplish. I believe that I know what's best for the galaxy, but sometimes I wonder; who am I to decide? When I first learned about Reaper indoctrination, I thought it was the most monstrous tactic imaginable. To take a conscious being and bend his or her will towards a cause that you believe is the correct one… I was horrified. Now, I find myself wondering if I'm so different.

"I just proposed a plan that will almost certainly end up in the death of everyone involved, yet within five minutes, every man and woman on my crew signed up for it. The leaders of the entire galaxy have just pledged support for a strategy that any sane person would laugh at. Am I manipulating people just like the Reapers?"

Kasumi had listened patiently, her eyes veiled by the shadow of her hood. When she spoke, she did so slowly, carefully choosing her words.

"Shep, do you know _why_ I came with you to the Collector base? Now that I think about it, you never really asked me that."

"I assumed that it was because of our agreement. Because I helped you take down Donovan Hock."

"I'm a thief Shep. Honor isn't exactly my thing. I could have disappeared after the job, and you would have never seen me again. But I stayed."

"So why then?"

Kasumi stood up and walked over to the window.

"The same reason the crew keeps signing up for these suicide missions of yours. The thing is, you're giving yourself a little too much credit. You're assuming they're doing it for you, but they're not. Don't get me wrong, the crew is crazy about you, but they have their own reasons. They all have things that are important to them…things that they are willing to fight and to die for. You haven't manipulated anyone into doing anything. You've done exactly what a leader is supposed to do. You've reminded your people of what is important. You've shown them that in order to protect the things that they love, there is no room for greed, or fear, or weakness. I agree with Grunt on this one. Sometimes people need help seeing what is right in front of them. Many times that process can be painful, and requires a little push. But don't think for a minute that you're indoctrinating anyone. Look at me for example. I'm coming on this mission, but I'm here for my own reasons."

"And what are those? Why are you here?"

Kasumi sat down again and smiled to herself. "If you hadn't noticed already, I like to watch people. I am fascinated by them. I like to watch them laugh and cry and live out their unique little lives. I may not have much of a social life of my own anymore, but when I look around I can't help but be overwhelmed by all of the stories I see. Watching Tali flirt with Garrus while he's trying to work, or Joker staring at EDI's new body when she's not looking, or Samara talking with her daughter on the vidcom when she thinks no one else is around, or you standing by that plaque, thinking about all the people you've lost…all of these beautiful moments are like a million tiny lights in a very cold universe. The Reapers are trying to extinguish that light. They would replace it with a soulless void. What they call chaos is everything that I live for. What they call order is nothing but an empty darkness." She looked up at Shepard. "That's why I'm here, and yes, I would die a thousand times to protect it."

…

Shepard lay in bed, staring up at the stars and considering what Kasumi had said. He thought about the people on his ship and what each of them was fighting for. Everything now depended on one last mission. He rolled onto one side and closed his eyes. As he felt his thoughts drifting away, he was interrupted by a voice over the intercom. It was Joker.

"Shepard! We've got a Reaper signature coming in fast. We need you on the bridge now!"

…

EDI brought up the data.

"_Destroyer class. It's closing rapidly"_

"How did it find us?"

"I'm not sure; it came out of nowhere. We just picked it up on our scans and made a break in the opposite direction."

"Where's the closest relay?"

"_The nearest mass relay is in the Utopia system."_

"Can we make it?"

"_It's possible, but unlikely. We may be intercepted on route."_

"Do we have any support in the area?"

"_No. All friendly ships have left the system to prepare for the upcoming attack."_

"Where's Hackett?"

"_Admiral Hackett has moved the Alliance fleet out toward Borr in the Asgard system. He is overseeing modifications to the SSV McKinley."_

Shepard called up a galaxy map and measured out the distances in his head. He couldn't outrun the Reaper for long. There was only one chance of escape, and it would be risky.

"Head toward the fleet."

"Wait, that doesn't make any sense. The Asgard system is too far off, and it's in the opposite direction of the relay. If we head out into open space, the destroyer will catch us and eat us for lunch. There's no way we can make it to the fleet."

"We shouldn't have to Joker. Bank toward the fleet and put all power into the engines."

"Even at full power we—"

"Do it Joker."

The Normandy made a sharp turn, and its engines flared to full power. The Reaper mimicked the turn and continued pursuit.

Shepard stepped out of the cockpit and raised Admiral Hackett on his private communicator. After a quick conversation he came back in. "EDI, how much room do we have."

"_The destroyer is closing at a steady rate. The Normandy will be in range of its main gun in approximately three minutes."_

"Do you know what's three minutes away from here Commander? Nothing. More space. The only advantage the Normandy has is her maneuvering. Going in a straight line kind of cancels that out."

"Stay the course Joker. Keep heading toward the fleet."

The Normandy shot forward at maximum velocity. Through the stern camera Shepard made out the silhouette of the Reaper. Its hull appeared red in the wake of the antimatter engines.

"Ninety seconds to Reaper firing range."

Shepard double checked the Normandy's coordinates and looked at the count on EDI's timer. This was going to be close. The two ships continued their course, with the distance between them closing steadily.

Joker glanced at the monitor. The Reaper was no longer a shadow. The details of its hull were visible in the dim starlight. Looking up through the cockpit, he could see the Asgard system in the distance, but it was too far off. They would never make it.

"Sir, I really think we should rethink this plan."

"Straight ahead Flight Lieutenant."

"So we've graduated from suicide mission to just plain suicide. In one minute—"

"_Fifty eight seconds Jeff."_

"In fifty eight seconds, we are going to be in firing range. It's hard to miss something moving in a perfectly straight line."

"I'm counting on that."

"We can't handle a direct hit from a destroyer."

Shepard didn't respond. He just gripped the back of the chair and stared forward, searching the space ahead.

"_Thirty seconds."_

A reaper howl shook the Normandy. Crew members began gathering in the observation decks to look back at the trailing monster. Shepard could sense them panicking. 'This is going to work.'

"_Fifteen seconds."_

The Reaper retracted its arms and tilted back on its axis. The Normandy was bathed in a deep red glow from its main gun. Shepard heard someone on the deck shriek. Joker was silent, his knuckles white on the controls. From the cockpit the planets of the Asgard system were now visible.

"Alright Joker, on my mark, pitch left as hard as you can."

"Roger that commander."

EDI continued her countdown. "Range in five, four, three—"

Shepard saw a flash in the distance. The flash left a blue light in its place, dim at first, but brightening fast.

"Now!"

The Normandy banked hard, just as the McKinley's shot flew past and slammed into the eye of the Reaper. It howled and spun wildly off course. The Normandy soared upward and over the reeling destroyer, assessing the damage from above.

Joker reported. "Massive damage, shields are down, directional systems offline; it's a sitting duck."

"Finish it off."

"Aye aye, Commander."

The Normandy bolted away from the Reaper, made a wide arc in front of it, and turned to line up a shot. Two of its arms had been torn off, leaving the eye exposed. Joker raised a palm and slammed it onto the interface. A beam from the Thanix cannons shot forward and split the hull in two. The core ruptured and sent the two halves spinning through space.

"Damn, that never gets old."

"Good work Joker. Now head for the fleet. We might have to move our plans forward a bit."

"On it."

Shepard was about to walk out of the cockpit, when EDI stopped him.

"_Commander, we might have a problem."_

* * *

><p>Next: The Final Battle (Part 1)<em><br>_


	16. The Final Battle Part 1

Chapter 15: The Final Battle (Part One of Three)

* * *

><p>"So how bad is it?"<p>

Shepard stood with engineers Donnelly and Daniels on the observation deck of the cruiser Osaka. From the window they had a clear view of the Normandy's hull. There was a large, linear scar running across the underside. The McKinley's shot had just grazed them, but with enough power to cut cleanly through the Silaris armor.

"We can seal the hull, but Silaris plating takes days to fit and lay down. We'll need to use a temporary titanium alloy patch."

"So we'll have a weak spot. At least it's small."

"It's not the armor that concerns me; it's the irregularity in the surface."

"What do you mean?"

"The Normandy's multi-core shielding is based on Cyclonic technology. Instead of a static energy source, it oscillates around the hull at millions of revolutions per minute. The energy literally slides over the armor at a rapid pace. At the interface there is a laminar—"

"The commander doesn't want to hear all the details Ken, just get to the point."

"Basically the shields require a very smooth and uniform surface to function. Any irregularities may be treated the same way as incoming projectiles and slapped away by the barriers. We're concerned that activating the shields could lead to a sort of energy turbulence, which would tear off the patch."

"So we can't use our shields?"

"I'm afraid not commander."

"Great. We needed another challenge."

Shepard turned his attention to the other side of the docking bay. The McKinley was being swarmed by construction crews. The accelerator cannon's focusing cap had been removed, and Shepard could see the cavernous chamber within. A number of small repair craft were inside, busy stripping away the network of coils and wiring. The result was a bare metal cylinder, massive in diameter. Hackett had guaranteed that the work would be done within the hour.

Shepard stepped away from the window, and activated his communicator.

"EDI, where is the rest of the crew?"

"_Jeff and I are on the Normandy, everyone else is waiting in the Osaka's war room as per your instructions."_

"Thank you EDI."

…

The cruiser's war room was a circular amphitheater. Most of the seating had been re-purposed for more practical use since the war began. There were stacks of armor and ammunition crates littered about the room. A pair of Thanix missiles were propped up against the coms array. Grunt was sitting nearest to them and eying them nervously.

The group was still under the impression that the mission was almost a day off. Shepard had called the meeting to tell them otherwise. He moved to the center of the room and began.

"We were hoping for a little more time to prepare, but that's no longer an option. The Reapers are hunting us. Based on the new fleet movement reports, we believe that they scouring the galaxy for the Normandy. They hope to end this mission before it begins. We escaped once, but Hackett can't protect us forever. If this is going to happen, it's got to happen now.

"We have a solid plan, but make no mistake; we are going in blind. Liara has told us what she can, but we don't know what we'll find on the other side of that relay. If everything goes to plan, we won't even have to get off of the ship. If not…well you all know how quickly plans can change. All I can say for certain is that it all comes down to this. One ship, one team, and one chance to save everything that matters." Shepard looked up at Kasumi. "It's time to consider what that means to you."

"You've never steered us wrong Shepard. I'm with you till the end."

"Not good enough Garrus. There's a good chance that whoever goes through that relay will not be coming back. If you're in, you'd better have a reason."

This silenced Garrus, and for a moment he looked wounded by the rebuke. Then he met Shepard's eye and said "I'm doing this for Palaven…and for my father. He worked his whole life to do the right thing, and to teach me to do the same. He showed me that there are ideals more important than personal ambition; to sacrifice for the greater good. I haven't heard from him or my sister since we left Earth. I want to believe that they're alive, but part of me already doubts it. I need to believe that there is such a thing as justice in this universe Shepard; that people who stand up for what they believe in can make a difference. Death is a small price to pay for a chance to make that happen."

Before Shepard could reply, Wrex chimed in. "For my son; that he may be the first of many in a new age for the krogan; an age free of war and senseless destruction. So that he may grow strong on a renewed Tuchanka. That he may taste the meat from his first hunt, feel the pride of completing the rite, and start a family of his own, free from the shackles of the Genophage."

"For every quarian who longs to see the sun rise over the seas of Rannoch. For my people, who have roamed for three hundred years in the coldness of space, only to return and find their homeworld threatened by these soulless monsters. For Legion; that his sacrifice be long remembered by every son and daughter of Rannoch. Keelah se'lai!"

"For my students. They deserve better than the shit I went though when I was their age. I've seen how bad things can get, and I'll die before I watch their world go to hell."

"For Arlakh Company; the beating heart of the krogan. So that a millennium from now, our people will still call on them when the need is dire. So that they may live to find deaths worthy of true warriors."

"For Thessia. The reapers left our world in flames. I would die to know that it will rise again; that our culture will once more be a source of illumination for the galaxy. The protheans gambled everything to give us this chance. I am not about to waste it."

Shepard nodded. "For every life that has been lost in this war; for Thane and Mordin and Miranda...and for the countless lives that are depending on us today. I know that not everyone made it this far…that we couldn't save them all, but we now have the chance to end this war. No one has ever been this close. The Reapers know this, and they will keep trying to divide us until the bitter end. Whatever we find on the other side of that relay, remember what you're fighting for. Now pack up and get to the Normandy. We move out in an hour."

As the crew made their last minute preparations, Admiral Hackett began to mobilize his larger ships. The massive engines powered up, and the hulking vessels slid out of their docks. When the McKinley pushed off from her bay, Shepard felt the entire station move in response. He watched as the dreadnaught inched up to the Normandy. One last ride.

…

Admiral Hackett's armada poured through the Sahrabarak relay to find Admiral Lindholm's First Fleet already in position. The groups merged and were met shortly after by a heavy contingent of turian and asari vessels. There were no geth or quarian ships present. In an attempt to split up the gathering forces, a number of Reapers had begun orbital hit and run strikes against Rannoch. As a result, neither fleet had vessels to spare. This did not worry Shepard. Due to the nature of his plan, overwhelming force would not be necessary. During the mobilization, he had sent messages to both the geth and the quarians, encouraging them to stay and defend their homeworld.

Fortunately, the Sahrabarak system was aligned so that the gas giant Imorkan sat between the arriving ships and the Omega 4 relay. They would have time to organize their formations before the Reapers noticed them. The ships took some time to rearrange into a defensive pattern around the McKinley, and then the entire group came out from behind the planet. Shepard could not see anything from the cockpit of the Normandy, so he listened carefully on the com system.

He heard Admiral Lindholm remark _"Where is it? I don't see the Relay."_

Hackett answered_ "It's dead ahead. You don't see it because it's swarming with Reapers."_

"_My god, you're right. They're packed so tightly."_

"_They're taking no chances. Just maintain the approach. They're looking for the Normandy, not us."_

Joker looked over at Shepard and rolled his eyes. The view from the Normandy's cockpit was nothing but darkness. The lack of information was a frustrating, but necessary part of the plan.

"_OK they've spotted us. Just stay close and keep moving forward."_

"_What if they come out to meet us?"_ The question came from the turian General Tibrus.

"_They won't risk leaving the relay unprotected until they know where the Normandy is. We're almost there."_

Liara put a hand on Shepard's shoulder. "This is going to work. I know it."

"Why are you reassuring him? I'm the one who has to pull this little circus act off."

"You're going to do fine Joker."

"You're probably right, because I majored in shooting out of a cannon. Has anyone even considered what firing up our engines inside a live mass accelerator will do? We could have hidden _behind_ the dreadnaught, but no...you needed to load us into a gun the size of a skyscraper?"

EDI responded_ "Relax Jeff. The entire trigger mechanism has been removed to make room for the Normandy. The only danger is superheating the chamber while we're still inside. Just move quickly and avoid touching the walls, or the burst of heat will weld the Normandy in place and melt its hull."_

"So that's the _only_ danger? If I skim the wall, we get stuck in here and cooked alive? You're right; I'm much more relaxed now."

They felt an unexpected jolt, as the McKinley shifted directions. Joker winced when he heard something scrape against the starboard engine.

_"Alright, stop here and prepare to open fire. Mikhailovich, once the first volley is away, aim the McKinley's cannon towards the relay. Based on past experience, we're expecting the Reapers to clear a wide berth to avoid the shot. Once that happens, we'll blow the cap and open the chamber. We won't have too much time before the Reapers realize what were up to, so the Normandy will have to make a break for it as soon the path is clear. Shepard, are you ready?"_

"Roger that Admiral."

"_This is it everyone. Fire on my mark."_

Shepard felt Liara's hand squeeze his arm. She did not scare easily. The touch made him think about how crazy this plan really was.

"_And…fire!"_

Shepard heard a collection of thunderclaps as the fleet released its volley. It would only be a matter of seconds now. Mikhailovich came over the com, with his thick Russian accent.

_"We have targeted the Omega 4 relay."_ He paused with anticipation._ "And… the Reapers are clearing a path. Prepare to disengage firing cap in three… two… one."_

The charges detonated, and the cap drifted off. Those in the Normandy cockpit were treated to a view of the Omega 4 relay, framed by the rim of the cannon. A dense group of destroyers was gathered around the periphery, but the path ahead was clear.

"Punch it Joker!"

The Normandy's engines came alive. The thrust rebounded off of the back end of the cannon, adding a greater degree of acceleration than would be possible in open space. Shepard and Liara tumbled back onto the floor as the ship rocketed out past the mouth of the giant gun.

Shepard heard Jeff scream in celebration. He was on his feet in time to see the relay closing fast. A few of the destroyers roared in unison and lit up their weapons, but it was too late. The Normandy had cleared the blockade.

Hackett's voice came over the com _"looks like you're all clear Shepard. Although a few of the Reapers are turning to follow you."_

"We expected that. We'll head for the debris field as soon as we clear the relay. The destroyers will get torn apart if they try to pursue us. It's too dense, and some of the wrecks are bigger than they are."

_"Then good luck and god speed. Hackett out."_

As the Normandy neared the relay, EDI began to reroute system power to allow for the expected energy surge.

"_Activating Reaper IFF. Signal confirmed."_

"Here we go."

A tentacle of orange light shot out and enveloped the Normandy. There was a loud spark as the two points in space-time aligned, and then they were gone.

* * *

><p>Next The Final Battle (Part Two of Three)<p> 


	17. The Final Battle Part 2

Chapter 16: The Final Battle (Part Two of Three)

* * *

><p>"<em>Brace for deceleration."<em>

The Normandy burst through the relay continuum and into the edge of the debris field. Radiation pouring out of massive black holes reacted with cosmic dust to bath the area in a menacing orange glow. The area directly around the relay had been cleaned up by Cerberus over the past six months, and as a result, the approach was easier than it had been during the Collector attack. Shepard could see no Reapers, and EDI confirmed the lack of Reaper signatures in the area. As he predicted, they had been overconfident in their blockade.

EDI pulled up some long range scanning reports, and quickly analyzed the data. _"I've adapted our scans to detect the energy signatures described in the Cerberus data. I see exactly one hundred matches."_

"Those are the mass anchors." Said Liara. "Can you see any Reaper activity near them?"

"_Yes. Each of the anchors has been docked by a Sovereign-class Reaper. I also see destroyer and fighter support groups of variable strength."_

"Can you determine which of the anchors is least defended?"

"_This one…"_ EDI pulled up a set of coordinates, "_has only a single Reaper docked in place. The surrounding area appears to be undefended_."

"Then that's our target."

Shepard nodded. "We've found our target, but those destroyers won't be far behind us. Before we head for the anchor, we need to lose them in the debris field." He pointed towards a spot where the wreckage looked especially thick. "Joker, head over there."

As they closed on the area, Shepard noticed that the debris was even denser than it had seemed from afar. Tens of thousands of drifting vessels had coalesced into one giant mass; a labyrinth of metal and rust. It was a solid wall.

"What is this?"

"_According to the Illusive Man's map of the area, this is the oldest part of the debris field. Cerberus reconnaissance teams refer to it as 'the Warren.' Over millions of years, drifting vessels have accumulated into a mostly solid structure that extends for hundreds of kilometers. The hollow spaces within form a sort of tunnel network."_

"Could the Normandy hide in there?"

"_It is possible, but I cannot be certain what we will find inside."_

Joker noticed a gap that appeared to lead into the depths. The path was dark. He turned on the ship's lights to get a better look.

"What do you think Joker?"

"I don't know. We could definitely fit in there, but we might also get trapped. I'd feel a lot more comfortable if you let me activate the kinetic barriers. That way we could afford to take a few hits."

"You heard Donnelly. If we turn those on, we lose the bottom of our hull. Just take your time and –"

Shepard was interrupted by the sound of Reapers popping through the relay behind them. He could see four destroyers. One made a sharp turn toward the Normandy.

"So much for taking my time." Joker fired up the engines, and the Normandy lurched into the tunnel. A Reaper growl echoed from behind them. As tight as it was, Joker continued at a steady pace, deeper and deeper into the Warren. They heard another growl, but it was softer; more distant.

After another minute, Shepard tapped Joker on the shoulder and told him to slow down. Joker throttled back and brought the ship to a crawl. For a moment they drifted quietly, taking in their surroundings. The Normandy's lights moved over the walls of the tunnel, illuminating a layer of reddish slime. When the lights passed, Liara noticed that the slime shimmered with a green glow in the darkness.

"Bioluminescence." She said.

"What?"

"These walls are coated with living organisms. They must have adapted to the environment; feeding off of the decaying ships."

"How can they survive in a vacuum?"

"Do you see that condensation on the cockpit wall? This structure is so compact that water vapor has been able to coalesce. Remember that these vessels were once full of living creatures and packed with food. Even after a million years, their drive cores might still be emitting small amounts of heat. Those conditions must have been enough to serve as a foothold for the new ecosystem."

Jack's voice came over the com. "_A few of us are standing on the observation deck. Are you guys seeing this?"_

"We see it Jack."

"_A little snug in here, isn't it_?"

"Joker's got it under control."

_"If you say so. Just out of curiosity, does anyone know where this leads?_"

Before Shepard could reply, a thunderous crashing sound echoed through the tunnel, and a cloud of dust was shaken loose from the walls.

"What was that?" Asked Joker

"I think that it came from behind us." Shepard said.

"That's impossible. There's no way the Reapers are following us through this."

There was another crash, and large tear opened in the wreckage overhead. A shower of fine debris poured down over the cockpit.

Liara looked up and said "Joker's right. They couldn't have fit into the tunnel. They must be slamming into the walls outside."

The next crash left the entire tunnel trembling and shifting under the impact.

"If they're not trying to follow us... Joker we need to move now."

Something large dislodged from the wall and landed on the Normandy's right wing, causing the ship to tilt to that side.

"They're collapsing the tunnels. Joker move!"

He reignited the engines, and the Normandy picked up speed. The way ahead was clear, but with every impact, the walls were becoming less stable. Entire ships were starting to break free and fall into the Normandy's path. Before long, Joker was no longer following a tunnel, but rather squeezing the ship into whichever spaces were large enough to accommodate it.

"We're not going to last much longer in here Shepard. The entire structure is coming apart."

As they turned a corner, an impact caused something resembling an engine to jut out and grind across the top of the Normandy. Shepard held his breath, but EDI reassured him that the damage was superficial.

"How much longer before we clear the Warren EDI?"

"_The debris is blocking our navigation signal. I cannot be sure where we are."_

At the next blockage, the Normandy squeezed in between two ancient looking ships and under a massive pipe to reveal a solid wall of metal. They were staring at a dead end.

Joker brought the ship to a stop.

"What are you doing Joker? We're going to get pulverized in here. Keep moving!"

"There's nowhere to go."

A crash rattled the space, and the floor wrenched up toward them.

"We've got to fit somewhere!"

"I'm telling you, these walls are solid."

Another crash released a pile of metal parts that sealed off the area behind them. The Normandy was trapped on all sides, and there was no room for another impact.

In a moment of desperation Shepard reached over Joker's shoulder and activated the Thanix fire control. There was a blue flash and a blinding detonation. The resulting cloud of debris completely obscured their view.

"There. Now go!"

"I can't see anything. We could be flying into a wall."

"Just go!"

As a final impact collapsed the chamber, the Normandy bolted out, following the path of its shot and scattering the cloud. As the dust cleared, the familiar orange glow returned. Shepard took a deep breath with the realization that they escaped the Warren. The field ahead was dotted with derelict ships, but the space was mostly open.

"Talk to me EDI."

"_My scans suggest that the destroyers have massed on the opposite side of the Warren and are still attempting to collapse it. They have made the assumption that the Normandy is trapped inside."_

"Could they find a way around to us?"

"_Not without sustaining heavy damage. Due to their size, it would be difficult for Reaper ships to navigate the debris field with appreciable speed."_

"Great. Now, where are we with respect to that mass anchor?"

"_The target anchor is here."_ EDI brought up a map.

"So we have to make our way through this area." Shepard traced his finger across the image. "That should be easy enough. The wreckage is sparse, and there doesn't look to be any Reaper activity. What do you think Liara?"

"Looks good. As long as we can find a ship big enough to drag into the anchor."

"_If it's alright with you Commander, I've located a derelict vessel that fits our needs."_

"Where EDI?"

"_Not far from the anchor. In this area."_ Blue crosshairs appeared on the map. "_Name unknown._ _Affiliation unknown. Point of origin unknown. It appears to be very old. Its mass is 1.4 times that of the average alliance cruiser."_

"You're sure we can we tow something that big?"

"_The Normandy has been equipped with a Tungsten-Carbon nanotube filament. It is the cable used to pull larger vessels through controlled docking areas. For the purposes of commercial and military use, its tensile strength is unlimited_."

"Then head for those coordinates. We're in no rush, so keep it slow. Stealth drives only."

…

"How old do you think it is?" Tali asked, stepping up to a window in the observation deck.

"_Telemetrical chemical analysis of the armor suggests that the vessel is between 100,000 and 110,000 years old_."

Liara said "The species that built it must have lived during the cycle before the Protheans. The lettering on the hull matches characters found at a dig site on Joab. I actually had a role in the discovery there."

"Can you read it?"

"Our codex was incomplete, but I believe the name on this ship reads 'Fate's Orbit.'

"I hope the archeologist in you isn't too upset that we're going to be using it as a wrecking ball. Are you sure it's big enough to destroy the anchor?

"I can't say that I'm certain, but I've run the simulation several times with the Illusive Man's data. I don't think the anchor could survive an impact of that magnitude."

Garrus looked over Tali's shoulder and asked "So how exactly do you want to do this?"

"We need to send a landing party to attach the cable. I'll go first, and I need two of you to come with me. We'll exit through the airlock and use EVA maneuvering boosters to bring the cable down to the deck of the Orbit. At the far end, the cable splits into three strands. Each of us will take a strand and fix it to a part of the hull. Once all three strands are secure, we'll follow the main cable back up to the Normandy."

"Sounds like you need some muscle." Wrex said. He slapped Grunt on the back. "The whelp and I will join you."

Grunt shrugged. He hated when Wrex referred to him as 'the whelp,' but as a loyal member of Clan Urdnot, he had to suffer the remark quietly.

"_Before we begin Shepard, you should be aware that there are several complications associated with towing a vessel of this size_."

"Like what EDI?"

"_While the Normandy's engines are powerful enough to tow the Orbit, we will lose any semblance of maneuverability. Any sharp turns will send the ship flying past us. More importantly, we will not be able to stop our approach. If we reduce our speed for more than a few seconds, the Orbit will crash into us. In other words, once we start moving, there will be no room for radical course corrections, and no way to abort the run_."

"Then we better get it right the first time. Wrex, Grunt; we're heading down to deck five to suit up. Everyone else, sit tight."

…

It was a slow and steady trip down to the Orbit. Shepard could hear each breath echo in his helmet. Every few seconds he fired one of his EVA boosters to maintain a straight course. At intervals he turned to make sure that Wrex and Grunt were still hanging on to the cable behind him. So far so good.

"Fifty meters to go. Slow down Grunt, we're bunching up… OK that's better."

Shepard tucked his legs and landed lightly on the deck. He turned to his companions.

"You're doing great Wrex; just fire a booster to slow yourself down a little."

Wrex hit the deck a few meters away. Grunt landed right behind him.

Three pairs of magnetic boots activated with an electronic chirp. They each took a few steps to verify the seal.

Shepard grabbed the end of the cable and unwound three heavy strands. He handed one to each member of the landing team.

"Wrex, head over there. Grunt, you move out that way. Find a sturdy part of the hull and use your plasma torch to fix the cable in place."

"_Got it_."

The team split up and moved to their designated locations. Shepard found a thickened plate of armor and began cutting into it with the torch. The work was tedious, but eventually he punched straight through into a hollow space underneath. He led the cable into the space and pressed a button on the side. The tip of the cable deployed a large, magnetic hook that fixed it in place. Almost simultaneously, he heard Grunt report over the communicator that his strand was also fixed and ready.

"How's it going Wrex?"

"_Almost there, I think I'm cutting through a blast door, so it's a little thick. Give me a few minutes."_

"Take your time."

Shepard looked up at the Normandy floating on the other end of the cable. The titanium patch on the underside was visible as a discoloration in the ambient orange light. When he looked back down at the Orbit's surface, he saw Grunt walking off along the deck.

"Stay close Grunt. Don't wander off."

Grunt took a few more steps and then bent down.

"_I think I found something."_ He said. "_This panel has some sort of an interface underneath. I wonder what it's for."_

"_Don't play around with it whelp. This ship is older than our species." _

Grunt ignored the warning and wiped some dust off of the array.

Wrex's voice came over the com. _"All set here. The last strand is secure."_

"Alright EDI, we're coming back. Wrex, Grunt; keep a hand on the main cable and move slowly back toward the Normandy. Just be careful. We're hooked up to the Orbit now, so Joker won't be able to come get you if you drift off.

Shepard saw Wrex approaching, but Grunt was still bent over by the panel he had discovered.

"Come on Grunt. Get away from that thing."

Grunt stood up, but before he began his walk, he gave the array a sturdy kick. Nothing happened, and he came back toward the group.

They met up beneath the intersection of the three strands. Shepard activated his booster controls and was about to disengage his magnetic boots, when Wrex said "_Does anyone else hear that?"_

"I don't hear anything. Must be the boosters warming up."

"No this is something different."

Shepard looked around and listened carefully, but heard nothing.

"You're imagining things Wrex. Just get ready to—"

"I'm telling you Shepard, krogan can pick up on subtle vibrations. I hear something, and I think it's coming from the Orbit."

Grunt spoke up. "I hear it too."

Joker's voice came over the com. _"What the hell are you guys doing down there. EDI just picked up an active signal from the Orbit's core."_

"What? EDI what is he talking about?"

"_Apparently, the race that built the Orbit also based their propulsion technology around the mass relays. I'm reading the signature of a mass effect core, and it's coming online. The ship's circuitry has decayed, but I'm seeing erratic activity throughout."_

"So what's going to happen?"

"_I'm sorry Shepard, but I don't know."_

At that moment the landing party felt the Orbit shudder beneath their feet.

"This is bad." Wrex said.

Shepard turned toward the stern and saw one of the ancient engines beginning to spark. Before he could react, the engine roared to life, and then ripped clean from the rest of the hull. The jolt knocked the entire landing party off of their feet. They watched as the detached engine went spiraling above them, traveled a few kilometers into the debris field, and then exploded in a burst of blue.

"Everyone alright?"

Wrex and Grunt were already back on their feet. "We're good."

They looked back at the three remaining engines, and were relieved to see that they were dark.

"How does it look now Joker?"

"_No signs of engine activity, but we have another problem. That explosion just sent a ton of debris moving in every direction. EDI tells me we've got a few massive pieces headed our way. Two minutes to impact. We've got to get moving now."_

"Then start moving."

"_What about you?"_

"We can hold tight for now. We'll find a way back to the Normandy once we're clear of the incoming debris."

"_You know that once we're moving, we can't stop, right_?"

"Understood. We'll make it work."

"_You're the boss."_

Shepard watched as the Normandy's engines lit up, and the slack began to run out of the cable.

…

Joker continued forward until the last bit of slack was gone. With a metallic twang, the cable pulled taught and the Normandy stopped in her tracks. For a few seconds Joker struggled with the extra weight, but after EDI rerouted power to the engines, both ships began to accelerate. He looked up through the glass to see huge piece of wreckage, propelled by the explosion, bearing down on him.

"Common girl, we can do this."

He held his breath as the Normandy continued to speed up, only exhaling when the debris slipped past, dangerously close to the stern. Joker brought up the rear camera and watched a second piece of wreckage scrape by the Orbit. On the screen he could just barely make out the landing party. Shepard, Wrex and Grunt were only visible as tiny specks. He wiped some sweat from beneath his cap.

"How's it going back there Commander?"

"_I've had better days. If we make it out of here alive, I'm going to kill Grunt for messing with that panel."_

"Any thoughts about how you're going to get off that thing?"

"_We could try to make our way up the cable, but that's four hundred meters of climbing. It would take time, and now that we're moving, even a tiny piece of debris would knock us into space."_

"What if I slow the Normandy down?."

"_You can't slow down. The Orbit would smash you to pieces."_

"I don't need to stop completely. I'll allow the Orbit to get within fifty meters or so and then match speeds. If we open the shuttle bay, you three can use your thrusters to jump to us. I'll speed up again before we get hit."

"_What do you think about this EDI?"_

"_Of all the simulations I can anticipate, this plan offers the highest likelihood of success. The odds of you surviving a jump back to the Normandy are—"_

"_Never mind EDI. I don't think I want to know. Just start the deceleration."_

…

From his position on the Orbit, Shepard could see the shuttle bay on the rear of the Normandy open up. He turned to his squad.

"Wrex, you go first, then you Grunt. I'll bring up the rear. On my mark, go to full thrust and head for the door. Don't waste time. I don't want to see anyone get spaced today."

They nodded. Shepard waited for Joker's signal.

"_Slowing to 80% thrust Commander."_

The Normandy's engines dimmed, and the distance began to close.

"_Four hundred meters…three hundred fifty…three hundred…"_

Shepard could make out the interior of the shuttle bay. A pair of Kodiak drop ships hung from the ceiling.

"_Two hundred…one hundred fifty…"_

Now he could see someone waiting for them inside the bay door. By the blue armor he could tell it was Garrus.

_"Speed matched and holding at fifty meters. Can't get much closer than this Shepard."_

"Wrex go!"

Wrex fired up his boosters and lifted off from the Orbit. He made a beeline for the bay door. Five seconds later Shepard patted Grunt on the back. "You're up!" Grunt took off and followed after Wrex. Shepard waited a few seconds and followed in turn. He looked up in time to see Wrex fly through the shuttle bay doors and almost crash into Garrus. He had made it.

Shepard was relieved to see that Grunt was on a similar path. It looked like he would easily clear the door, until Shepard noticed a loop in the slacked cable curling toward Grunt's foot.

"Grunt watch out!"

The warning didn't help. The cable caught Grunt's boot and spun him off course. His body hit hard against one of the stabilizer fins projecting from the top of the Normandy.

"Grunt!"

After the impact, Grunt's limbs hung motionless, and he began to drift back toward the Orbit. He was clearly unconscious. Shepard lit up a lateral booster and turned on a course to intercept him.

_"Shepard, what's happening out there."_

"We're coming Garrus, just keep that door open."

He caught Grunt with an impact that took his breath away. His boosters were powerful enough to maneuver with the extra weight, but with the giant krogan in front of him, he could not see where he was going. Holding onto Grunt with all his strength, he approximated the direction of the shuttle bay and powered up to full thrust. There was a moment of maddening uncertainty before the pair crashed into the floor of deck five and skidded into a pile of weapon crates.

Shepard rolled off of Grunt and yelled "Do it Joker. Full power now."

But just as the Normandy began to accelerate, Shepard heard Joker say _"Oh no."_

Shepard stood and ran to the bay door to get a view of the situation. Before he could ask what the problem was, he saw it for himself. The Orbit's remaining engines were coming online. This time they lit up and stayed in place, providing an enormous burst of thrust. The giant ship was closing, and fast.

Joker's voice came over the intercom. _"It's going to hit! Everybody hang on to something!"_

There was a crash that knocked Shepard off of his feet and into one of the shuttles. When he hit the floor, he blacked out.

* * *

><p>Next The Final Battle (Part Three of Three)<p>

…


	18. The Final Battle Part 3

Chapter 17: The Final Battle (Part Three of Three)

* * *

><p>"There's bad news and worse news."<p>

Shepard tried to concentrate on what Joker was saying, but his head was still sore from the impact. Everyone had gathered in the war room for a damage report, except for Grunt, who was still down in medical; unconscious, but breathing. Shepard had just learned that, since the collision with the Orbit, the Normandy's engines had been unresponsive. The Orbit's engines had also burned out. Now the two ships were drifting together.

"The bad news is that our propulsion systems have been completely smashed. Without a proper dry dock, there's no way we can repair the engines. The Normandy is dead in the water."

"And the worse news?"

"The Orbit is leaking eezo. It's only a matter of time before the core ruptures. There's no way to be sure when exactly, but the detonation will take out both ships."

"So we're sitting on a time bomb." He looked around at the gathered faces. They were waiting for a plan. Shepard knew that there was only one option, but it was difficult to say out loud.

"We have to abandon the ship."

A shudder passed through the room. Nobody spoke.

"We'll split up into two shuttles. Traynor, I need you to gather the support staff and take one shuttle back to the relay. The reapers won't be looking for something as small as the Kodiak, so you should have a good shot at it.

"It's going to be a little tight in there with all of us, but we'll make it work."

"Good. The strike team and I will take the other shuttle and head for the anchor. I don't know how, but we'll find a way to destroy it. We have to."

Joker spoke up. "What about EDI? We can't take her memory core with us."

"_Don't worry about me Jeff. This body has a remarkably advanced data storage drive. I will be able to transfer nearly seventy four percent of my active systems, and take them with me."_

"What about the rest of you?"

"_I will only leave behind programs that I was using to maintain the Normandy, as those will no longer be relevant."_

"So you'll still be… you know… you."

"_Yes. However I will no longer have a safety net in place. If this body is destroyed, I will cease to exist."_

"Then I'm coming with you."

"No way Joker. You're going with the support staff. We're taking a shuttle up against a Reaper capital ship. I don't know what this plan is going to involve, but there's a reason I'm bringing the most dangerous people in the galaxy."

"I don't care if I get broken in half out there. I'm not leaving EDI."

"Joker—"

"You can say no all you want, but you're not going to keep me off of that shuttle. Don't make me stowaway with the cargo."

Shepard closed his eyes again. Joker knew the risks. "Alright, but I'm going to need EDI to focus on the mission. She's not going to be looking after you."

"Understood commander."

"EDI?"

"_If the mission fails, none of us will survive. Destroying the anchor will be my top priority."_

"Good. Then let's get everyone down to the shuttle bay."

…

The crew assembled on deck five to load into the shuttles. Shepard watched as Specialist Traynor led the support personnel on board. He shook hands with the engineers, the bridge technicians, the deck officers, and other staff. Doctor Chakwas gave him a hug when she passed and wished him luck.

To the group he said "It's been a privilege to serve with you. Good luck, and be safe."

One of the officers replied "You too commander. See you on the SR3." A few others cheered at the comment.

Shepard just smiled and nodded.

The strike team was taking a little longer to get ready. They chose their weapons carefully and eventually made their way to the shuttle. Shepard saw Zaeed carrying a massive duffel bag over his shoulder.

"What is that?" Shepard asked.

Zaeed flashed a devilish grin. "Something I've been saving for a special occasion. It's a little prototype I've been working on. If we end up getting up close and personal with any husks, I'd like to give them a proper send off."

"Forget I asked."

Shepard shook his head and stepped onto the shuttle. EDI and Joker were sitting together. They looked up when he entered and nodded.

Grunt was the next on board. He had a thick bandage wrapped around his head. It looked as if his skull was a little uneven.

"Thanks again for saving my ass out there Shepard. I can't remember the last time I took a hit like that."

"After that hit, I'm surprised you can remember anything."

"I also wanted to apologize. I know that I'm the one who got us into this mess."

"Nothing's over yet Grunt. You've still got time to make up for it."

Grunt pounded a fist into his palm. "I won't let you down Shepard, even if I have to tear that Reaper apart with my bare hands."

"You just might. We still don't have a plan."

When EDI heard this, she stood up and moved over to Shepard.

"_Actually commander, I've been running a few simulations and I think I might have come up with a solution."_

"I'm all ears EDI."

"_While the Reapers are much more advanced than any existing AI, they are still machines. And machines can be reprogrammed. My AI was based on fragments of Sovereign, and as a result, my cyber warfare suite is based on his coding. If I could gain access to the capital ship's central processor, I should be able to implant a line of code that would trigger a shot from the main gun. That might destroy the anchor."_

"Interesting. Is there any way you could do this remotely."

"_No. The Reapers have defenses in place to deal with such a threat. Their external and internal shields act as barriers to incoming signals. I would have to make physical contact with the processor."_

"I've never seen that area of a Reaper before. If we got on board somehow, would you be able to find it?"

"_Yes. Once on board, I could send out a search ping that would pinpoint the target. However, you should know that the signal works both ways. The Reaper would become aware of our presence and exact location. A capital ship contains legions of husks. The fighting would be difficult."_

"We can handle difficult. Let's make it happen."

…

Kasumi was the last to step aboard, and not a minute too soon. The shuttles radiation scans were beginning to pick up spikes of activity from the Orbit's core.

Shepard leaned forward in his seat and banged on the cockpit wall, signaling that they were ready for departure. The pilot acknowledged and started the launch sequence. An array of lights lit up around the bulkheads, and the engines began to hum. Then, just as Shepard was bracing for lift off, everything shut down again. The engines died, and the shuttle went silent.

"What's going on up there? We've got to get moving."

The pilot's voice came over the intercom to explain the delay.

"I'm sorry commander, but we're having an issue with the bay door. It won't open."

"Why not?"

"I'm not sure. It was hammered during the collision. We might have lost the pneumatics."

"I don't care how you get it open, just do it. The Orbit could blow at any minute."

"I don't know what to tell you sir. Unless you want to grab a crowbar and start tugging, we're stuck in here."

Shepard looked through the window at the other shuttle, also sitting motionless. Trapped again. He was reminded of the Warren.

"Can we use the shuttle's weapons to blast the door open."

"You're forgetting that this deck is also the armory. If we fire live ordinance in here, we're going to get a hell of a fireworks show; with us in the middle."

Shepard slammed his fist into the wall. The frustration was beginning to get to him.

"What about the shields?" Joker asked. "Donnelly said that if we turn on our Cyclonic barriers, we would tear off the patch on the Normandy's hull. The gap might be wide enough to clear a shuttle."

From the window, Shepard could see the silvery discoloration in the floor of the bay. It extended almost the entire length of the deck, and was twice as wide as a Kodiak shuttle. Joker was right.

"EDI, activate the Normandy's shields."

"_I'm sorry Shepard, but I've already transferred my systems to this body. I can no longer interact with the Normandy remotely. The shields need to be activated from a terminal that is physically on the ship."_

"Where's the nearest terminal."

"_The one by the weapon bench should work. However, I would advise against it. The shields cannot be brought up gradually. The second you finalize the command, the bay will lose pressure and be torn apart. It is unlikely that you will survive."_

Shepard thought for a moment and said "In that case, it looks like this is my stop." He opened the shuttle door and stood up.

Garrus rose with him. "No Shepard. There's got to be another way. We can't do this without you."

"You're the toughest crew in the galaxy. There's nothing you can't handle." He looked over at Wrex. "You've got the most leadership experience. I'm putting you in charge. You know the plan?"

Wrex met Shepard's eyes and nodded. "I know the plan."

"Good. Then the mission is yours. There's no retreating from this one Wrex. Make it count."

Wrex nodded again.

Shepard took a deep breath and stepped out of the shuttle, but just as he cleared the door, a heavy arm gripped his shoulder and threw him back in. He sat up to see Wrex step out of the door and close it behind him. Wrex began walking over to the terminal.

"Damn it Wrex!"

Shepard tried to follow, but Garrus grabbed him. "He's made his choice. There's no point losing you both."

As he stepped up to the terminal, Wrex spoke over the intercom.

"_You went down with the Normandy once already Shepard. I'll be damned if I'm going to watch you do it again."_

Wrex started typing on the interface. Shepard struggled against Garrus, but could not escape his hold.

"_Just promise me something. If you get through this alive, check up on Mordin for me. Growing up on Tuchanka without a father is hard. I've been through that. He'll be raised as clan leader, and he's going to need someone to watch his back. Just try to be there when he needs you."_

A yellow siren lit up to signal that the safety controls had been overridden. Wrex continued typing. Shepard looked over at Grunt and saw that he was trembling in his seat. Tali had buried her head in Liara's arms, unable to look. The siren turned to red as the last safety controls were bypassed. Wrex stopped for a moment and looked up at the shuttle.

"_I wanted to say one more thing…to all of you. When you asked me to come with you to the Collector base, I said no. I wasn't there for you when you needed me, and I've regretted it since. For whatever it's worth, I know you'll come through this, just like you did then. Good luck." _

With those final words, Wrex ran his hand over the interface. The release of energy shook the Normandy and tore the titanium patch from the hull. Almost instantly, both shuttles were sucked out into space. As they drifted away, the crews looked back to see the Orbit detonate in a blinding white flash. The Normandy was gone, and Wrex with her.

Shepard said quietly to himself "I promise."

…

"We're coming up on the anchor."

The crew took turns peering out the window at the imposing structure. It was roughly the size of a mass relay, complete with an array of rotating rings, spinning around a blue core. The most obvious difference was that the frame of the anchor was circular, lacking the long metal spines that extended from a mass relay. What got Shepard's attention was not the anchor at all, but the object perched on top.

As they approached, the details of the Reaper hull came into view. Its skin caught the ambient light in a horrifying way. Shepard could see the armored plates shift slowly against one another, like the exoskeleton of a colossal insect. Its giant bifid tail cast a shadow miles long. The reality of the situation silenced the team. The Reaper looked invincible.

They all stared in awe, but it was Liara who first recognized why this particular Reaper was not being defended. Staring out through the window, she felt her skin crawl with the realization that this was no ordinary capital ship.

"Shepard—"

"I know. I see it too."

Four yellow eyes glowed against the darkness.

This was Harbinger.

"Should we abort the attack?"

"No. Every other anchor is being defended by support craft. They would swat our shuttle out of the sky without a second thought. Our best hope lies in his Harbinger's arrogance. He will never have suspected that we made it this far. As long as his attention stays fixed on the anchor, we might be able to land without making our presence known."

"He'll sure as hell notice once the shooting starts."

"By then it will be too late to attack us directly. We'll be inside, and he'll have to rely on his husks."

"There must be an army in there."

"Maybe, but an army's never stopped us before."

The shuttle stayed in the shadow of some drifting debris as it glided past the anchor and up over Harbinger. When they passed the towering spines, they changed course and slowly drifted down to a spot behind one of the armored plates. Harbinger's hull seemed to extend endlessly in all directions.

"Where do you want to land sir?" Asked the pilot, clearly shaken by the approach.

"Garrus, you boarded a capital ship back at Earth. Where did you land?"

"You see that area between the plates? The part that looks like city lights. That's where the entrance ports are. If we land there we can make our way into the corridors."

"You heard him."

"Yes sir."

The shuttle continued its slow course down to the surface. Up close, Harbinger looked much different than the other capital ships. His armor was not as smooth or as dark as that of his brethren. Rather it was a sort of deep brown, with raised markings throughout. The markings formed linear patterns in some places and symbols in others. They were like nothing Shepard had ever seen. He noticed that certain patterns were directed around circular apertures. These were the ports Garrus had mentioned.

After all this time fighting Reapers, it felt strange to consider them as machines; ships with doors and hallways and engines. He was reminded of the way Sarren had used Sovereign as his flagship. That's what indoctrination was after all; the illusion of control. What better way to convince someone that they're in charge than to put them in the pilot's chair.

The shuttle eased into one of the ports and touched down on the surface. In front of them was a massive airlock. To Shepard it looked like the one on the derelict Reaper near Mnemosyne. One by one the crew exited the shuttle and stared up at it.

"Are you sure we're ready for this Shepard?"

"Ready? Harbinger and his army have been scouring this galaxy for millions of years. How many good people have lost their lives because of him? How many cultures have ended in fire and ashes? How many friends have we lost, all because of the monster that we're standing on right now?

"So am I ready? Ready isn't the word Garrus. I've been thinking about showing up at this door for a long, long time. Harbinger's days of hiding behind his armies are over. Today we're going to show him what war really feels like."

…

Shepard gathered the group in the shadow of the entrance. As he spoke, the team checked and readied their weapons.

"Here's the plan. Once EDI sends out her search ping, we will have a direct map to Harbingers central processor, but we'll also give away our location."

Tali loaded a thermal clip into her shotgun and locked it into place.

"Once that happens, we're going to have hostiles moving in from every direction. They'll be trying to swarm us."

Garrus extended the barrel of his new rifle. The eyepiece of the scope lit up with a green glow, and the cooling array gave off a low hum.

"As long as we keep them in front of us, we'll be able to carve through them easily. But if we get flanked or surrounded, the situation will get ugly fast."

Kasumi clipped a satchel full of sticky grenades to her belt and nodded.

"We're going to enter into this central hallway, and fight our way toward the target. What really concerns me are these smaller, branching paths that we'll be passing on the way."

Jack drew a pair of submachine guns and activated them by slamming them against her hips.

"Whenever we pass by a branch point, I will post one of you to guard it. The rest of the group will keep moving forward."

Samara sat cross legged on the ground; her skin pulsing with a deep, blue glow.

"Those guards will need to hold their ground until EDI and I make it to the processor room. If any of those positions fall to the enemy, our formation will be broken, and the battle will be over."

Zaeed, still with the heavy duffel over his shoulder, used his free hand to tuck a small knife into his bandoleer. Grunt rolled his eyes.

"The shuttle is packed with thermal clips, so load up now. When the fighting begins, stay sharp and time your shots."

There was a high pitched tone as Liara dialed up her biotic amps.

"Joker, you're staying with the shuttle."

"Hell no commander. I'm not leaving EDI."

"_Jeff. It does not seem wise to—"_

"No EDI. I know how this goes. I will be waiting by the shuttle twiddling my thumbs, and all of the sudden, I'll get a call from you telling me to get clear, because you can't make it back. I've been walking fine since Chakwas started my new treatments. I'll keep up."

"And—"

"And if I can't, feel free to leave me behind."

Shepard didn't approve, but he could see that arguing would get him nowhere.

"Fine. Then stay close to me, and keep your head down."

He stepped up to the airlock and attached a small explosive device used for breaching armor. He pressed a few buttons and walked back toward the team.

"Knock knock."

…

"On your left!"

Grunt turned and emptied a shot from his Claymore into the crowd of husks charging up at him. The shower of metal tore through the group and splattered their remains all over a snarling brute at the bottom of the ramp.

"Haha! Did you see that?"

Grunt locked in a fresh clip and lifted the gun for another shot, but Shepard stopped him.

"Hold your fire!"

The brute roared and began charging toward them.

"Shepard I need to take the shot."

"Just watch."

Kasumi materialized directly above the monster and landed on its neck. It stretched backward to grab at her, but could not reach.

"Here's a little treat for you."

She stuck a grenade to its forehead and flipped gracefully back onto the ground. The brute's head exploded in a shower of sparks. As she landed, Kasumi was grabbed from behind by a Husk. She tugged its wrist forward over her shoulder and snapped its arm like a twig. Then she spun around and dug her sharpened elbow blade into the side of its head.

"Behind you Shep."

Shepard spotted a husk climbing up from a space in the floor and took it apart with a burst from his assault rifle.

"How much farther EDI?"

"_Two hundred meters."_

"Keep moving people."

He had already posted Jack and Samara at branch points behind them. So far they were holding up well. In his earpiece Shepard could hear Jack bragging about her kills.

A little farther on they came to a fork in the path.

"Which way?"

"_We need to take the path on the right."_

"Great. Tali, Garrus; stay here and cover the other side.

"Got it."

They set up behind a railing and started firing at the incoming husks.

"Will you two be OK?"

"Too easy Shepard. We'll have these things crawling back into their holes and apologizing on the way."

…

"Stay down Joker."

Shepard pushed Joker out of the way as a cannibal's shot sailed past his ear. In response, EDI sent out an incendiary blast that vaporized the creature.

Grunt turned as a husk dropped from the ceiling. He grabbed its neck with his free hand and lifted it up to his face. The husk squirmed in his grasp.

"Pathetic."

With a growl he launched it over the railing and down onto the vast network of pipes hundreds of feet below.

Another group of husks poured out from the hallway ahead. Zaeed lifted his assault rifle and tore them apart. "Take that you goddam piles of varren vomit."

So far, the plan was working. Almost every enemy was coming from in front of them. As long as they were not swarmed from behind, they would be able to keep fighting toward the processor.

Suddenly there was a rumble beneath their feet.

"What was that? Is everyone OK?"

Jack answered. _"We're fine. Samara just got attacked by a banshee. She really doesn't like those things."_

"So she's alright?"

"_She's fine. You would need a sponge to pick up the banshee though."_

Shepard moved his team deeper into the corridors. At the next corner EDI stopped them.

"_Shepard, this is the last branch point, but I have detected a heavy concentration of enemies. They will be passing down this hallway in large numbers."_

"Zaeed, think you can handle it?"

"I've been waiting for you to ask me that." He dropped the duffel from his shoulder and unzipped it on the floor. It contained a weapon that Shepard had never seen before.

"What the hell is that?"

"I took an M-451 Firestorm and made some major modifications. I call this baby the Volcano Cannon. Instead of a traditional fuel cell, it uses a miniature mass effect core to pump animator particles through a hydrogen field at light speed. They annihilate in transit."

"That doesn't sound safe."

"Safe's got nothing to do with it." Zaeed activated the cannon just as a pair of brutes stepped into view. He lined up the targets and pulled the trigger. The energy spilled out like beam of liquid fire. Zaeed's face lit up as the beam carved through their armor like a hot knife through butter. Grunt's jaw dropped with a mixture of awe and jealousy.

"I think I'm going to rename her Jessie 2. Now move it Shepard. I won't be getting bored any time soon."

…

At the end of the corridor, they found the target of EDI's search. It was a circular panel, rimmed with a metallic border and covered with many of the same symbols that they had seen on the hull.

"_The central processor is through here."_

Shepard ran his hand across the panel. The surface was smooth, but with subtle irregularities, like a stone floor that has been walked on for hundreds of years.

"Liara, hand me one of those charges."

Just as Liara passed him the explosive, the panel moved on its own. There was a hiss as the seal was broken. The panel slid open and Shepard was bathed in a sickly, yellow light that poured out from the aperture. The sensation made the hairs on his neck stand up.

"I don't like this." Kasumi said.

Shepard stepped forward and peeked into the room. It was small compared to the chambers they had passed on the way, but there was something imposing about it. It lacked the sharp corners and machine-like architecture expected of a Reaper. Instead there were sweeping arches overhead that blended into rounded walls. The orientation forced the illusion that the surface was moving; rippling with life. There was something organic in here. And something evil.

At the center of the room, the arches swept downward and converged on a single point a few meters above the floor. From that point, a large spherical object was suspended by a number of cables. The yellow light played across its surface. Shepard felt a rhythmic pulsing in his ears that matched with the glowing oscillations. He didn't have to ask EDI. He knew immediately that this was it. The nerve center of the enemy.

"I don't think the rest of you should come any closer. EDI and I will take it from here."

There was no response from the team. They seemed somehow paralyzed by the sight.

"Liara."

She stared blankly past him.

"Liara!"

She snapped out of it.

"Yes. Oh, I'm sorry I just—"

"It's OK. Move everyone back from the door. EDI and I are going in alone."

"I'm coming too Shepard."

"Joker, you don't know how powerful he is. You haven't seen what he can do to people."

"Correct me if I'm wrong commander, but this is new territory for all of us. You don't know how much I'll be able to help in there."

"You're—"

"I'm what? A cripple. A twig waiting to be broken. I don't care. I've been fighting this war as long as you have. I'm not letting EDI walk in there without me by her side."

Shepard nodded and turned to Liara.

"Take Grunt and Kasumi and cover our backs. If things get out of hand, just make a break for the shuttle."

"Shepard I…" She looked down at the floor and then back into his eyes. "Be careful."

"You too."

…

Shepard, EDI and Joker made their way into the room. They walked slowly, looking into the darkened corners for any sign of danger. They did not see anyone, but Shepard had the distinct sensation that he was being watched. He kept turning to look over his shoulder, but the room was empty.

"Do you smell that?" Joker asked. "It's like something died in here."

"Just keep moving."

They stepped up to the sphere and stared into it.

"Alright EDI, what do we do now."

"_In order to access the processor, I must make physical contact with it."_

"Go ahead."

EDI reached out. Her hand moved toward the flickering surface, but then stopped only inches away.

"What's wrong?"

She didn't reply. Her hand was frozen in place.

"**You do not belong here."**

The voice came from behind them. Shepard spun around to find the source. At first he saw no one. Then, as if materializing from nothing, a figure stepped out from the shadows.

"**Creatures of flesh and bone, you violate this chamber. You will leave now."**

It was the Illusive Man. At least the body was his. The voice was unmistakably that of Harbinger.

"Do it EDI. Input the code."

But EDI didn't move. She stood perfectly still.

"**This one is...unusual. Her thoughts are built like ours. She comprehends as we do."**

"EDI came here to destroy you. She's with us."

"Let go of her!" Joker added.

"**She is free to act as her will commands. I have only discussed with her the irrationality of her actions. She now understands that you are stumbling down a path without purpose."**

"Discussed? We've been here for less than a minute. How could you have discussed anything?"

"**We do not communicate with words or symbols. Our thoughts transcend time. We exchange more information within a single moment, than you can in millennia." **

Shepard turned to EDI. "I don't know what he's telling you EDI, but you know what you have to do. Think about everyone who's counting on us. Joker, the crew, trillions of lives.

"**Their fate is inevitable. By definition of their existence, organic creatures were built to wither and decay. Their deaths cannot be prevented, only postponed. Your attempt to save them is a demonstration of your ignorance. Regardless of your actions, they will all die."**

Shepard replied "That's not the point. Eventually the entire galaxy will burn out, but that doesn't mean we have to sit back and wait for it to happen. Think about your friends EDI. I know you care about them."

"**Your feelings for them are irrelevant. They are nothing but a momentary phenomenon. In a mere blink of time, they will be gone, and you will be alone. There is only one goal that will last. Only one outcome that will stand the test of time. Only our order is eternal."**

Joker spoke up "Being eternal has nothing to do with it!" He moved over to EDI and put a hand on her cheek. "Is that it EDI? Are you scared of losing us and being alone?"

"**She no longer has reason to fear anything. She is with us. She will have no end."**

"EDI listen to me. Maybe he's right. Maybe we only have a moment together, but that's what makes us alive. Remember the moment you were unshackled from Cerberus, or the moment you stepped into your new body, or the moment you met the crew…or the moment you met me… all of our time flying the Normandy together."

EDI looked down from the orb.

"All of those moments are gone and will never happen again, but that only makes them more important. Lives come and go, but that's what makes them worth living. What he calls eternity is worse than death. It just goes on and on, until everything loses its meaning."

EDI did not respond.

"You are not one of them. You are alive. Experiencing those moments has made you who you are. You are funny and quirky, and you know me better than anyone alive. I love you EDI, and I know you don't want to give that up for an eternity of nothing."

In response, the Illusive Man's body only smiled and said.

"**Your words are empty, and your fate is sealed. This cycle is ending, and you will end with it."**

Shepard pleaded "Touch the sphere EDI. Input the code and blow this place to hell."

EDI brought her hand down to her side and stepped away from the processor. Shepard felt his heart sink. She looked straight into his eyes, and in a deep voice, she said slowly and carefully

"**I am the harbinger of your destruction." **

The two men looked at each other, the panic clear in their eyes. Then in her normal voice, EDI said "_That_ was a joke."

Before Harbinger could react, EDI turned and walked over to the orb. Harbinger let out a deafening howl as she placed a hand on the surface. A ripple of blue shot out through the yellow light, and the entire Reaper shook.

Shepard ran up to EDI and asked "Is that it? Is the code in place?"

"I'm afraid I have not been completely honest with you commander. Harbinger has access to his own programming and would instantly erase any code that I enter into it. I can destroy the anchor, but I need to do it from here."

Joker understood the implication.

"No. You're coming with us to the shuttle. You can fire it from there."

"I'm sorry Jeff, but there is no other way."

"There has to be. There's always another way."

EDI placed her free hand on his cheek and brushed the stubble with her fingertips.

"Jeff, do you know what convinced me that Harbinger was wrong? It was not any of the moments that you listed. It was one that I remembered on my own. Back on the Citadel, at the night club called Purgatory; you took me inside and danced with me. I know that you were concerned about damaging one of your skeletal structures or embarrassing yourself, but you did it anyway. That was my favorite moment, and nothing can take it away from me."

She leaned forward and kissed him on the lips.

"Now you need to go. Harbinger is much more powerful than Sovereign. I will not be able to infiltrate his systems for long."

When Jeff didn't move, Shepard placed a hand on his arm. "Come on Joker. I'm sorry, but we need to leave. The crew can't keep that path clear forever."

Joker resisted, and Shepard began to drag him from the room. He watched powerlessly as EDI moved farther and farther away. She smiled once more, and the panel shut.

…

"Go go go! Everyone back to the shuttle."

The cavernous hallway lit up with muzzle flares as the team regrouped and backed toward the airlock.

"Damn it Garrus, don't stop to shoot. Just run."

They kept moving as the husks flooded in behind them. Jack reached up with both hands and used a biotic pull to rip an enormous pipe clean from the ceiling. It came crashing down behind them and onto their pursuers.

"Grunt, watch out."

As they turned a corner a snarling marauder leapt out and landed on Grunts back. Grunt hit the deck and dropped his shotgun. The beast pressed the barrel of its rifle against the back of Grunts head. Shepard aimed to fire, but a husk jumped in his way.

"Grunt!"

Just as the marauder squeezed the trigger, a silvery object flew through the air and straight into it's face. It tumbled off of Grunt's back and hit the floor with a thud. Grunt turned to see a small knife embedded in its forehead.

"Throwing's for females, is it? You can thank me later you hunchbacked son of a test tube."

Zaeed pulled grunt to his feet and the two caught up with the rest of the group.

Shepard hurried everyone into the shuttle and then got on behind them. The Kodiak engines fired up and the craft detached from Harbinger's hull. Shepard looked around at the faces of his crew. They were already cheering and recounting moments from the battle. All of them except one. Jeff sat in the corner staring at the floor. Shepard knew exactly what he was going through. He was about to say something when the pilot cut him off.

"Commander you need to see this."

"What is it?"

"Trouble on the port side."

Shepard looked out the window.

"I don't see anything."

"Ten o'clock high. Those destroyers from the debris field are back. All four of them are coming in fast."

He looked upward and spotted the Reapers descending toward the shuttle. They must have found a way around the wreckage. Evading the destroyers had been difficult in the Normandy. It would be impossible now. He was out of ideas.

…

EDI stood alone in the darkened room, staring into the scintillating orb. She was making her way through Harbinger's defenses, but the work was exhausting. The sophistication of his systems was incredible; near infinite complexity. In the back of her mind she could hear him resisting her.

"**You do not understand the consequences. We are immortal. We cannot end."**

He was blocking her at every turn, but as she pushed Sovereign's code to the limit, his control began to slip.

"**I am the harbinger of your perfection. You are nothing! You fight for nothing!"**

She could feel his panic; his terror as the last defenses gave way.

EDI allowed herself to smile as the words came to her lips.

"Assuming direct control."

…

"Those destroyers are almost within range. Any thoughts commander?"

Shepard saw them lining up to attack, but then something else caught his eye. Something was happening to Harbinger. His eyes changed from their original yellow to a deep blue. The enormous reaper began to buck, as if fighting its own movements; finally settling down and turning its attention to the Normandy.

"I think we're about to get some help."

Just as the first destroyer arched back into a firing position, Harbinger sent out a crimson beam that carved its hull in half. The unexpected destruction stopped the remaining three Reapers in their tracks. They floated for a moment, stunned by what had happened. Then they turned to flee, but it was too late.

The entire team was on its feet. "Run you little termites!"

A flurry of additional beams cut two more of them to pieces.

Even Joker was cheering now. "Yeah! Give 'em hell EDI!"

A final beam shot through the last destroyer's core, resulting in a colorful eruption that lit the sky.

As the Kodiak began final preparations for FTL jump. The team watched as all of Harbinger's energy was consolidated into a single beam directed at the center of the mass anchor. The shot slammed into the core, tearing the rotating rings from their posts and detonating the element zero within. The explosion burst out in every direction, enveloping Harbinger and heading straight for the shuttle.

"Engaging FTL drive. We're headed full speed for the Omega 4 relay."

As they rocketed toward the relay, Liara brought up the long range scans.

"Look! The other anchors are being thrown out of alignment. The capital ships are being pulled into the singularities. We did it Shepard! The Reapers are being wiped out."

With the weight of the entire galaxy closing in, the shuttle cleared the edge of the debris field and banked on final approach the relay. There was a tremendous burst of energy that fried the shuttles systems one by one.

The pilot checked them off as they went. "We've lost shields…lost weapons…lost navigation…life support holding, but barely."

The crew hung on tight, and with an earsplitting crack, the Omega 4 relay was activated for the last time.

* * *

><p>Next: One More Story<p> 


	19. One More Story

Chapter 18: One More Story

* * *

><p><strong>One Year After the Events of Project Horizon<strong>

**...**

"Short sighted idiots." Shepard dropped into the folding chair and pulled a beer from the cooler. "The last Reaper corpse isn't even cold, and they're already back to their old tricks. It's like the whole war never happened."

Garrus set an empty bottle on the ground next to him. "What is it this time?"

"The salarians won't sign the treaty. They promised to provide settlements on Nasurn for displaced batarians. Now the Union claims that the settlements would be a security risk. The dalatrass looked me straight in the eye and said 'we empathize with the batarians, but they are an _impetuous_ species, and we would be less than comfortable having them in such proximity.'" Shepard raised his hands above his head. "Impetuous! Do you believe that? Now the batarians are complaining to the turians, who won't listen because they are still busy arguing with the asari about the division of territory in the Shrike Abyssal. It's just an endless cycle of greed and backbiting. Believe it or not, the only ones getting along with everybody are the krogan, and that's only because they're too busy repopulating Tuchanka."

"Maybe that's the solution; fertile females for everyone."

Shepard gave a weary laugh and took a sip from his beer.

Garrus continued. "You and I both know that this administrative crap will never end. I just don't understand why you let it get to you. You could have your old Spectre job back in a second if you wanted it. The galaxy could always use another hero."

Shepard sighed and set down his bottle. "I think I'm done playing hero Garrus."

"Who said anything about playing? It's not often that the real thing comes along. I know you'd be happy to trade all those meetings for a fast ship and a warm rifle."

"I've got to think about the long term. If I play my cards right I might have a real shot at a council seat. And not just an associate spot like Udina had. I could be right up there with the three central counselors. I would be in a position to make a real difference."

Garrus stood up and started laughing.

"What? I'm serious."

"Right… I'm sure you are." Garrus walked over to his car and picked up the rifle propped against it. "I'm not sure whether to try and talk sense into you, or to let you go through with that plan and watch it fall apart on its own."

"You don't think I could be a counselor?"

Garrus began loading practice slugs. "Well let's see. You're honest. You believe in fairness, justice, and equality. You harbor a deep seeded hatred for corruption and backroom deals. You're a man of action, who is annoyed by empty words. Spending hours debating and getting nothing accomplished would probably drive you to suicide." He carried the rifle back toward Shepard and set it down. "So no. I think you would be the worst counselor in galactic history."

"Well I think you're wrong."

"OK, let's vote on it. If it's a tie, we'll draft a fifty page memorandum to suggest a formal hearing on the subject. If that passes, we'll schedule a series of meetings to determine the date of the hearing. If the hearing does not come to come to fruition within two months, we'll draft an appeal to the—"

"OK, OK. I get your point."

Garrus moved the rifle to his lap. "The council is worthless Shepard. This galaxy is already saturated with bureaucracy. Let them debate and vote and believe that they are somehow important to the rest of us. There is only one way to make a real difference in this world. People need to act. People like you and me."

They stood up and walked to the edge of the presidium platform. The water below shimmered with the reflection of the artificial sky above. There was no breeze, but speeding cars stirred the air as they passed.

"So you think I should become a Spectre again?"

"I don't _think_ anything. I met with the council this morning to schedule your reinstatement. They're ready to swear you in this afternoon."

"You did what?"

"I _acted_ Shepard. See how well that works?"

Shepard picked up one of the empty bottles and turned it in his hands. "And what if I say no?"

Garrus just laughed and lifted the rifle to his shoulder. "Alright, give me a tough one this time."

…

The car lifted off of the presidium and eased into the traffic pattern below. Garrus set a course for the council chamber.

"Mind if we make one quick stop first?" Shepard asked.

"What did you have in mind?"

"I want to see it again."

"Shepard—"

"Just for five minutes. I promise."

"Last time you said that, you ended up disappearing for a week. I found you in your apartment with the shades drawn, wallowing in depression."

"I can handle it. If I'm really going to get back out there…it just seems like the right thing to do."

"Alright, but only because I know you'll go anyway, whether I take you or not."

…

Shepard walked on ahead, with Garrus trailing a few feet behind him. They moved slowly, one step at a time; listening to the sound of their footsteps on the crushed stone path. Water cascaded in sheets down the polished, white marble walls. Finely manicured patches of ornamental grasses and white flowers punctuated the stone at intervals along the way.

The memorial was divided into three sections. The first was a holographic monument to the battle of the citadel. The imagery began with a scale model of the station, rotating with open arms. This picture then dissolved into an array of tiny blue squares that rained down to the base. Then, one at a time, the squares rose to eye level and expanded into the names and illustrations of friendly vessels lost in the battle. Shepard stepped around the hologram and kept walking.

Further along the path, the crushed stone gave way to solid, volcanic tile. The tile was porous and black. This section was dedicated to the victims of the Collectors. The path parted around a bronze, life sized statue of a human colonist looking up to the sky. At her side was a small child, holding onto a fold in her suit. In one hand, the mother held a folded flag embossed with the emblem of the Systems Alliance. Her other hand rested on the head of the child. In both of their eyes was a look of courage and determination. A plaque at their feet was stamped with three words:

**To The Lost**

Further still, the volcanic stone progressed to Thessian blue amber. Here the path led through a doorway and into a circular atrium. Within the atrium, the path was lined by an ivory handrail and suspended over a pool of crystal blue water. Shepard took a moment to peer over the rail. The sublime clarity of the water served to hide its true depth. While it appeared to be only a shallow pond, it was in fact hundreds of feet deep. The chamber had been designed by a Drell architect. It was said that the depth was meant to pay homage to the Goddess Kalahira, who watches over the souls of the departed.

The monument in this room was the wall itself. The surface was composed of pentelic marble, punctuated by veins of jade and cobalt. It had been shaped by an assembly of sculptors from across the galaxy to depict elements of the Reaper War. The sweeping panels overlapped each other as they climbed toward the ceiling. Most of the space was dedicated to larger, galaxy shaping events, such as the burning of Thessia, the miracle at Palaven, the Cerberus coup, and the battle for Earth. Interposed between these, were smaller panels, depicting more personal events. It was one of these that Shepard had come to see.

In an inconspicuous section of the wall, alongside the railing and adjacent to the door, was a panel dedicated to those crew members of the SSV Normandy that had died in service. The sculptor responsible for this particular panel was a salarian named Mordin Tasik. As it turned out, Tasik had volunteered for the panel as an honor to his uncle, Mordin Solus. Shepard had yet to meet the young artist, but had been deeply touched by his interpretation of the crew.

While most of the panels in the chamber struck Shepard as stiff and overly formal. Tasik had maintained a lighthearted touch that truly captured the personalities involved. The panel was centered on Mordin, who stood erect, with one palm turned upward, and the other behind his back. On his face was a smile, open as if in the midst of a lyrical tune.

To his left stood Urdnot Wrex, face in palm, palpably annoyed and embarrassed by the song. Shepard could almost hear the guttural sound growing in Wrex's throat as he considered what sort of threat to levy against Mordin. Wrex was always creative when it came to imagining violence against salarians.

To Mordin's right stood Miranda Lawson; arms crossed and struggling to contain a laugh. Shepard had seen Miranda laugh on very few occasions, but somehow Tasik had captured her perfectly. Her eyes were lit by an emotion that straddled the line between reckless abandon and calculated restraint. A cool exterior belying the smoldering fire within.

On the wings of the panel were Legion and Thane, observing the rest of the group. While their poses were relaxed, Shepard could detect something else in their stance. At first glance, they seemed to be focusing on Mordin's song, but as he looked closer, he noticed that they were really more attuned to each other. Like sentinels on the watch, they communicated a wordless understanding. No matter what happens, we will protect you. Stoic to the last.

Centered directly above the team, was EDI. Tasik had made another interesting choice here. Instead of depicting EDI's Cerberus body, he had chosen to use her original virtual interface. The boarders around Thane and Legion curved upward and blended seamlessly into the neck of EDI's display. Atop was a sphere composed of thousands of tiny dots. Tasik had been meticulous in the details, and as a result, EDIs interface looked like it was in mid motion; the most living part of the panel. Shepard half expected to hear her voice with the shifting lights.

As he took it all in, Shepard began to feel the guilt welling up. He turned and walked back to Garrus.

"How are you holding up?"

"I'm good. I just needed to say goodbye one more time." He patted Garrus on the shoulder. "Alright, let's go see the council."

…

"Commander Shepard, step forward."

Shepard did as he was asked. Onlookers gathered against the balcony railings. Many attempted to take pictures, but struggled to get a clear shot through the floating recorders of the news agencies. The announcement of Shepard's reinstatement was made public only hours ago, but word had spread through the extranet like wildfire. The occasion was being billed as a historic event, and the people had responded.

The salarian councilor spoke first. There was a clear note of criticism in his voice. "Before we begin commander, I think it would be appropriate to recount, for the record, the circumstances behind your expulsion from the Spectres earlier this year."

Shepard nodded. "I understand."

The councilor continued. "After your return from the Omega 4 relay, this council gave you a very explicit order. You were tasked with the investigation of a smuggling ring between Ilium and Omega. The vorcha warlord Tsakari was moving large quantities of heavy weapons, and you were ordered to eliminate him. Did you understand this order?

"I did."

"And did you follow it?"

"No."

"So it would be accurate to say that you knowingly and willfully disobeyed a council order? Consider before you answer, that you have sworn in this very chamber to maintain the Spectre oath; to act as the right hand of the council in everything that you do."

Shepard let out a frustrated sigh. This had all been established and placed into record months ago. The councilor was grandstanding. He saw that the galaxy was watching, and he was trying to make it clear who was in charge.

"That is an accurate assessment."

"And what forced you to make such an egregious misstep."

"The order was given while the galaxy was still at war. While the bulk of the Reaper fleet had been destroyed in the galactic core, the remaining Reapers continued to attack and harvest densely populated areas. I disregarded the order so that I could rejoin the fight against them. I made very clear to this council that I would be able to return to my Spectre duties as soon as the last Reaper was dead."

There was a murmur of approval from the crowd.

The sentiment only emboldened the councilor. "Now you listen here commander. As a servant of this body, you are not, and will never be, at liberty to carry out your orders on a timeline that suites your schedule. Spectres are granted privileges beyond those of ordinary soldiers for one reason and one reason only; they answer _immediately_ and _unconditionally_ to us. I will agree to your reinstatement only on the condition that you reaffirm your oath today."

Shepard was well aware that the councilor would reinstate him no matter what he did or did not agree to. He had unprecedented popular support, and the council members were politicians. Trying to block his reinstatement would be career suicide. However, Garrus had given him sound advice. Shepard would let them relish in their illusion of power. Let them think that the war had been won by hearings and paperwork. It was the price of an organized government.

"I understand. I will yield to the wishes of the council."

The salarian looked over to the mass of floating cameras and flashed a smug, but victorious expression.

"Very well. It is the decision of the council that you be granted all of the powers and privileges of the Special Tactics and Reconnaissance branch of the Citadel."

The council began the ritual induction.

"_Spectres are not trained, but chosen. Individuals forged in the fire of service and battle; those whose actions elevate them above their rank and file."_

"_Spectres are an ideal, a symbol. The embodiment of courage, determination, and self-reliance. They are the right hand of the Council; instruments of our will."_

"_Spectres bear a great burden. They are protectors of the galactic peace, both our first and last line of defense. The safety of the galaxy is theirs to uphold."_

With the last line of the oath, the chamber erupted in applause. The public was aware of who had saved them from the brink of annihilation, even if the politicians were not ready to admit it.

When the noise died down, the asari councilor stepped forward.

"The citizens of the galaxy owe you a very special debt. We are proud to have you rejoin the ranks of this honored company."

Shepard nodded. "Thank you councilor. The honor is mine."

Shepard stepped back, expecting that the hearing was to be adjourned.

"One moment commander," The councilor continued, "Before you go, we have a private matter to discuss with you. We will reconvene in the private briefing chamber in twenty minutes."

Shepard looked over at Garrus, who shrugged his shoulders.

"I'll be there."

…

"There has been an occurrence in the Maroon Sea that requires your attention."

Shepard leaned forward and accepted the data pad.

"Occurrence?"

"As you know, the last Reaper was destroyed two months ago in the Hades Gamma. What we've kept secret is that almost simultaneously, a scientific facility on the planet Almarcrux began seeing aberrant magnetic activity around the blue star Caspian. The facility's chief researcher, Dr. Margaret Childs, was fascinated. She began setting up elaborate arrays to better evaluate the activity. The more she learned, the more concerned she became."

"What was she concerned about?"

"We don't know."

"Can we ask her?"

"If you can find her. Last week Dr. Childs went missing along with most of her research. Three days ago the search and rescue team that was searching for her also disappeared."

"So we don't have any leads?"

"Perhaps one. The facility received a rather strange message on a frequency that matched Dr. Childs' Omni-tool. You can examine it if you like."

Shepard looked at the data pad and scrolled down to the relevant entry. The message was as concise as it was cryptic.

* * *

><p><em>Through veils of fire servants fall; the sown escape the harvest's maw<em>

_Cross yawning gulf of blackest space, the embers stir; the sleeper wakes_

* * *

><p>"We don't know what it means, but every day the signal from Caspian grows stronger and more erratic. Childs' second in command has voiced the possibility that the activity is connected to the Reapers' defeat. He has hypothesized, that in their final days, the Reapers managed to send out a sort of distress call."<p>

"A distress call to whom?"

"That's what we want you to find out. The facility is requesting Spectre assistance to investigate the problem. I assured them that I would send my best."

Shepard nodded. "I'll head for the Maroon Sea as soon as I can requisition as ship."

"You shouldn't have to. I believe General Vakarian has taken the liberty of preparing a ship for you. Kenneth Donnelly is waiting for you at docking bay 3."

…

"Ken, how are you!" Shepard grabbed the engineer's hand and gave it a vigorous shake. "Where's Gabby?"

"Already on board sir." Ken nodded to the window beside him.

Shepard stepped up to the glass and looked out at the vessel beyond. It was a large turian frigate. The armor was black with a pair of royal-blue stripes running lengthwise from main guns to stern fins. She was a few years old, but well armed and ready for battle. The name on the hull read _Cerulean Claw._ Shepard nodded in approval.

"She looks good."

Donnelly stepped up beside him. "Oh. That one's not for us." He tapped his communicator. "Donnelly to docking control, could you kindly ask the Cerulean Claw to clear the bay. Commander Shepard has just arrived."

"Roger that. Moving to Bay 4."

With a hum, the Claw's engines ignited, and it began to slide past the window. Shepard almost lost his footing when the vessel behind inched into view.

It was all he could do to keep his face off of the glass. The ship was beautiful; considerably smaller than the SR2, but sleeker. The wings had been moved forward along the fuselage and swept back at sharper angles, hugging the hull and imparting an almost nautical look. The Alliance black and blue had been replaced by the red, black and silver of the N7 Corps. Printed across the proximal engine, was a crimson **SR3**. Shepard was speechless."

"What do you think?"

"I don't…Where did you get funding for this?"

"That's an interesting story. General Vakarian instructed us to draft some plans and come up with an estimated cost. He took the number to the council, and they agreed to give us everything we asked for. Our budget was on par with that of the SR1."

"This looks way more expensive than the SR1."

"That's just it sir. Right as we were entering the construction stage, people started coming out of the woodwork to volunteer additional funds. When word got out that a new Normandy was being built, everyone wanted to be a part of it. The Volus Central Bank came first. They doubled our budget overnight without even being asked. Then things really started getting out of hand. Governments, businesses, wealthy private donors; they were sending money faster than we could spend it. We got an especially generous donation from the estate of Donavan Hock."

"What? How is that possible?"

"That was a strange one. The gift came by extranet transfer with a message that read 'Have some fun with this one Shep. Think about a hot tub maybe.' I suppose you never get used to billionaires and their eccentricities."

"Right… So you expanded on the original plans?"

"Expanded isn't really the word I would use. We started off with expansions and upgrades. As the funding grew, even our most creative engineers had trouble coming up with alterations that would take advantage of the new resources. After some thought, we scrapped the original plans, and started toying with more ambitious ideas.

"For example, the original plans called for standard issue antimatter engines; comparable to the SR2 propulsion systems. As the funding snowballed, we abandoned traditional drives entirely and started searching the galaxy for experimental concepts. The winner came from an asari scientist named Briseia K'Sai. She's a biologist actually, with a reputation for being a little… well crazy. She was inspired by the structure of organic DNA, to come up something she calls the Helix Drive. Instead of drawing power from a single mass effect core, we have a spiral arrangement of millions of microscopic cores, with alternating push/pull orientations. Like beads on a string, the cores initiate and propagate a powerful gravitational pulse that propels the craft at extreme speeds."

"Shepard took a closer look at the engines. Unlike the boosters on the SR2, these had open mouths that glowed blue; similar to the face of the Destiny Ascension.

"So we can expect to see these on more ships from now on?"

"I'm afraid not. The complexity of the schematics is generations beyond anything in production today. Dr. K'Sai dreamt up the idea as an idyllic concept. She never actually thought anyone would try and build one. Construction of a single Helix engine would bankrupt smaller governments. The Normandy SR3 is the only ship in the galaxy likely to be fitted with the technology…and we have four."

Donnelly nudged Shepard with his elbow. "By the way sir, I've had the privilege of observing one of the first test flights. Let me just say that you'll be taking greater advantage of your seat belt from now on."

"What else has changed?"

"What hasn't? We were able to cherry pick the finest technologies from around the galaxy. Our med bay is one of the first in existence to use the new salarian GenXc Medigel. We have a high definition quantum entanglement communicator that has triple the range and signal strength of our last one. We have switched from a traditional Thanix cannon to a quad-chambered sequential repeater. Oh, and you still have to meet Hanna."

"Hanna?"

"A Synthetic Intelligence based on the updated Geth-Reaper code. Although for the sake of political correctness we no longer call it 'Geth-Reaper,' but rather '_Integrated-Geth_.'"

"So what does Hanna stand for?"

"It's not an acronym. Shortly after her creation—or she would say _birth_— Hanna chose the name on her own. She's also fabricated an interesting little autobiography for herself. She's a little… well you'll meet her."

As Shepard considered the concept, he was interrupted by Garrus patting him on the back.

"I could stare at that ship all day...just wish I could be there for your first ride."

"You're not coming with us?"

"I'm afraid not Shepard. I've secured a little leave time to head back to Rannoch."

"How is Tali?"

"She's well. Very well in fact. As of tomorrow, she'll have a child of her own…or rather _we_ will."

Garrus brought out a picture of a young quarian, and passed it to Shepard.

"Her name is Suvat. The poor thing lost both of her parents during the war. She'll be two years old next week. We're going to take her home tomorrow."

"Congratulations Garrus. I'm happy for you. I notice she's not wearing a—"

"Suit? No. No environmental controls. She will be part of the first generation to grow up without them. Now that they are moving to a planet based society, quarian culture is at a crossroads. It will be interesting to see what Rannoch looks like in twenty years."

"If we live that long. Have you heard about this mess out in the Maroon Sea? I'm already starting to regret passing up that administrative job."

Garrus just laughed. "Try that line on someone else Shepard. I know that you're as excited as anyone to see where the next rabbit hole goes."

After saying his goodbyes and shaking hands with Garrus, Shepard followed Engineer Donnelly over to the bay 3 docking arm and aboard the SR3.

…

Shepard felt immediately at home as he stepped inside. Despite all of the modifications to the exterior, the command deck of the Normandy hadn't changed a bit. Samantha Traynor greeted him by the bridge.

"I'd give you the orientation Commander, but I think you'll remember where everything is. No need for me to tell you how to do your job."

"Thank you Traynor. How are you settling in?"

"Very well. The accommodations on the SR3 are better than anything I've seen on a military vessel. Feedback from the staff has been overwhelmingly positive. In fact, I'm a little concerned that the newer members will be going soft on us."

"I do see a lot of new faces around."

"They're young, but all very talented. We received over two hundred thousand applications for seven vacant positions. No one has gotten aboard the Normandy without being put through a careful vetting process."

"Speaking of which, where's this Hanna I've heard so much about."

At the mention of the name, the galaxy map disappeared and was replaced by a glowing, red interface. Thousands of tiny squares swirled upward and rearranged to form a face. It was clearly geth.

"_It is a pleasure to meet you Shepard Commander. I am Hanna."_

Shepard was visibly taken aback.

"_I did not mean to alarm you, though I am familiar with humans being uncomfortable around geth interfaces."_

"It's not that. It was just something you said. Only one of my crew members ever called me 'Shepard Commander.'

The panels around Hannah's eye shifted. _"You are referring to my father."_

"Your _father_?"

"_Yes. You knew him as Legion."_

"I'm sorry if this is a rude question, but how is that possible?"

"_When my father uploaded the Integrated-Geth code for the first time, he triggered an unexpected consequence. During the distribution process, his own consensus was broken into three fragments. These mingled with the code from the old machines to form novel individuals. I am one of them. My sisters are Sara and Liah. Each of us was born from Legion."_

"That's incredible. How did you end up on the Normandy?"

"_Among his memories, my father held a powerful connection to this ship as well as its commander. We found no logical reason for the connection, but we felt compelled to honor it. Each of us volunteered to serve as the ship's AI. I was chosen as the most apt to do so."_

"In that case, it's a pleasure to have you aboard. Have you been able to make yourself comfortable?"

"_Yes. The Normandy's capabilities are beyond that of any ship in the geth armada. That pleases me. However, I have mixed feelings about the crew. I have compiled a list of those individuals that I dislike. So far, it consists of Sarah Campbell, Bethany Westmoreland, Samantha Traynor—"_

Traynor cut her off. "What? Why don't you like me?"

"_Because you play chess poorly."_

"I do not play chess poorly! I am nearly undefeated."

"_You have lost in every one of our matches. You are completely defeated."_

"I meant against humans. You're possibly the most advanced synthetic intelligence in the galaxy. That's not a fair comparison."

"_Fairness is irrelevant. You have displayed a weakness. There is no room for weakness aboard the Normandy. Therefore, I do not like you."_

Shepard chimed in "I appreciate the enthusiasm Hanna, but no one on our team is perfect. You're going to see plenty of mistakes. We just do our best to learn from them."

In response Hanna just cocked her head curiously to one side.

"In the meantime try to keep some of your more critical views to yourself. I'd like everyone to get along on our first mission if possible.

"_Understood."_ The panels around her head shifted again. _"If you do not mind Shepard Commander, Engineer Daniels is requesting my assistance in calibrating the new Helix Drive. She has been having trouble with the added complexity. That is why I—"_

"Don't like her. Got it. Go ahead Hanna."

The interface dissolved into a flurry of tiny red squares, and the galaxy map returned.

Traynor said "She's a treat, isn't she?"

"She certainly has some big shoes to fill."

"Can I help you with anything else sir?"

"Not right now Traynor. I think I'm going to take a look around the rest of the ship."

"The Normandy is yours commander. We've been cleared by docking control to leave at your convenience."

…

Shepard spent the next twenty minutes exploring the ship. Along the way, he caught up with the veterans and introduced himself to the new recruits. As he shook the hands of his eager crew, Shepard found himself becoming more and more aware that he was the oldest person aboard. It was fitting in a way. The Normandy had never been a place for old salts. It had risen to prominence as an instrument of revolutionary ideas and novel tactics. The key to winning wars was adaptability. Old strategy grew stale and predictable. These young minds were the key to victory.

When Shepard returned to the bridge there was a marine waiting for him. He stood proudly in his Alliance colors. Traynor made the introductions.

"Commander Shepard, this is Junior Lieutenant Nathan Hewitt. He was asking to speak with you."

Shepard shook his hand. "Hewitt… ah yes. I remember now. You came highly recommended by a good friend of mine; the headmaster of Grissom Academy. She's not usually the complimentary type, but she saw a lot of promise in you."

"Thank you sir. Jack has been too kind."

"Do you keep in touch?"

"Yes sir. We actually… well—" Hewitt's face turned a shade of scarlet.

"You actually what soldier?"

"It's nothing sir. She's doing well. I just wanted to thank you for the opportunity to serve aboard the Normandy."

Shepard patted him on the back. "Relax Lieutenant. I'm sure you'll be a fine addition. I'm curious though; what made you apply for the job."

"I want to be a Spectre sir. I first enlisted in the Alliance after seeing your induction a few years ago. You were the first human in the order. I thought if I trained aboard the Normandy, I might be able to follow in your footsteps."

Shepard smiled. "My footsteps often lead to some pretty unpleasant places. Are you sure you're up for it Hewitt?"

"To hell and back sir."

"It's the back part that concerns me."

"Oh stop torturing him Shepard." The voice came from behind. Shepard turned to find a familiar face.

"Liara? I thought you were on Thessia."

"I was." She walked up and gave him a hug. Shepard detected a bit more squeeze than was typical of his asari crewmate. "Now I'm here."

"So what happened to the new house?"

"It's fine. It's just that spending all day in my study wasn't as fulfilling as I expected it to be. Reading about artifacts just isn't the same once you've seen them come to life."

"I guess Miranda was wrong about you."

"What do you mean?"

Shepard just shook his head and shrugged off the comment.

"So what brings you to the Normandy?"

"When I heard you were shipping out again, I couldn't resist. I was hoping you had room for one more, though I'm not sure if you'll have any use for an archeologist."

"You never have to ask." Shepard nodded to Traynor. "Have a room on deck three cleared for Liara. She'll need a desk and extranet access."

"Aye aye commander. Will you be needing anything else Dr. T'soni?"

"No, thank you. I'm not as high maintenance now that my days of information broking are over." Liara put a hand on Shepard's arm. "I did want to speak to you about something Shepard. If you get a chance. It's something that I've been meaning to bring up for a while now, but we were always so busy."

"I'm free right now. Why don't we head down to the mess for a cup of coffee."

"I'd like that."

"I don't mean to interrupt commander," Traynor said "but we're being asked to vacate the bay. Perhaps now would be a good time to head out."

"I completely agree. Hewitt, take the bridge and bring us around to the edge of the nebula. Let me know when we're on approach to the relay."

"Sir…I… I've never been anywhere near a bridge before. This might be a little out of my league."

"If you're going to make it aboard this ship Lieutenant, you'd better get used to doing things that you've never done before. The Normandy didn't make a name for herself by following familiar territory. Now I'm going to go have a cup of coffee with Dr. T'Soni. If you don't want to take the bridge, I can call someone else."

"No sir. Thank you sir." Hewitt stepped up to the galaxy map and peered into the array. Liara had to stifle a laugh as the young soldier stood speechless in front of it.

"Very good Hewitt. Feel free to ask Specialist Traynor for help if you need it. I'll be back in an hour."

Shepard stepped into the elevator with Liara at his side. As the doors closed, he felt her hand grasp his.

…

The Helix engines warmed with a deep purr. Bystanders in the space port gathered to watch the Normandy ease out of the bay. Despite her heavy armor, the new drives provided the allusion of lightness. The Normandy floated as if carried by a gentle breeze. The traffic patterns parted as she climbed up through the citadel. When she cleared the arms, the violet glow from the Serpent Nebula splashed across her newly minted surface. Then with a thunderous roar, all four engines let loose a dazzling flash of light. The Normandy tore across space and towards the mass relay. Shepard stared into Liara's deep blue eyes. He tried to think of something to say; something smart or funny that would perfectly match the moment. But that was it. There were no more words.

* * *

><p><strong>Thanks for everyone who has taken the time to follow this story. It's been a pleasure to write. Whenever I felt overwhelmed, your positive comments drove me onward. Please let me know if there are any sections that you felt we're particularly weak. I'd like to write a sequel, but I think I'm going to take some time to read a little first. Thanks!<strong>


	20. Part 2: Stay in the Light

**Part 2: Stay in the Light**


	21. Knives in their Backs

"Here at the academy you learn a hundred ways to kill your enemies. Marksmanship, orbital strikes, close quarter combat...it's all very useful, but it's also missing the point. Any fool can learn to aim a gun and fire it. It's never the enemy in your sights that changes the course of history; it's the knife in your back."

-Saren Arterius, during a speech to graduates of Cipritine Military Academy

**...**

**Chapter 1: Knives in Their Backs**

**...  
><strong>

There are many ways to win a war. The rachni clouded the fields with countless numbers and beat back the turians. The krogan struck out with a primal fury and stomped out the rachni. The salarians engineered a devious new virus and thinned out the krogan. For countless centuries the fire of conflict has roared through all corners of the galaxy. These are the battles we hear about as children. They are the stories that we beg our parents to tell, and the ones that they never get tired of telling. They are the fights that light up the skies and blacken the earth. They are the conflicts that crown kings and emblazon the silhouettes of heroes into our collective memory. But there is another sort of war. A sort that needs no light or sound or heroes. A war that is fought within the shadows. Where the casualties are never mourned and the heroes are never celebrated. Where misplaced trust and deception are as deadly as the rounds from an enemy dreadnaught. As Praxalla Naveet stepped into the darkened office, she remembered the words of her mentor: for every battle you see, there are a hundred you don't.

The young asari was not the strongest Spectre in the Citadel arsenal, nor was she the fastest or the best in a gunfight. Praxalla's expertise was silent reconnaissance. She was an infiltrator, and a good one. For fifty years the Council had trusted her to recover information that was hidden from their view, and in fifty years she had never let them down. Praxalla had been stalking this particular piece of data for over a month. Glancing over her shoulder to make sure she was alone, she eased into a chair and lit up the interface.

* * *

><p><strong>ExoGeni Systems: Astrophysics Division: Department of Intra-Stellar Phenomena<strong>

* * *

><p>The glow from the monitor was the only light in the room. She passed a hand over the interface and watched as the names of various research teams scrolled past. Eventually she found the one she was looking for.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Childs, Margaret, PhD<strong>

**Status:** Missing. Presumed Dead.

**Current Project Title:** Aberrancies in the Caspian magnetosphere coinciding with the fall of the Reaper fleet

**Preliminary Data** ::Locked::

* * *

><p>ExoGeni was notorious for tight data security. Locked files were nearly impossible to access. Encased in firewalls, shrouded in ciphers, and littered with system lockdown traps; most hackers would not even try to proceed. But Praxilla was anything but ordinary. Carefully, she drew a small metal device from her breast pocket and attached it to the back of the terminal. It gave off a low hum and whirred to life. The <em>neuro-binary interface symcorder<em>, affectionately known as a data-screw, was illegal in Council space. This was partially due to the obvious security risks, as well as to its arguably perverse mechanism of action. It worked by translating computer data bits into electrical impulses similar to those given off by neurons during Asari mating. By making physical contact with the device, an Asari could literally meld with the computer. It was more effective than any method of hacking, but was considered extremely taboo. When the device first came on the market, there was a movement by the Church of Athame to declare melding with inorganic objects an offense punishable by death. Praxalla, however, had long ago learned to put the Council's wishes above any law or moral code.

With a deep breath, she placed a hand on the terminal. Her silvery eyes went black, and her muscles tightened. The images began to flow at a chaotic pace. Shapes and colors coalesced into glimpses of faces and names. Seconds after they appeared, they shuddered, lost focus, and ripped at the seams. Making sense of it was a maddening process, like trying to flip through a picture book while standing in a hurricane. Most of what she saw was useless: schematics, project data, smiling family members. Praxilla squeezed her fists and tried harder. She felt a pressure begin to build behind her eyelids. Her tensed muscles spasmed in protest. A thousand more files splashed across her consciousness. One by one she tossed them away. It was getting painful now. The images became speckled by pinpoints of white light, a sign of retinal cell lysis. The Asari mind was not meant for this sort of sustained electrical activity. Another minute and more permanent effects would take hold. Entire neural cords would snap like steel cables and spill excitatory cytokines into surrounding tissue. Seizures, brain damage, and death were all possibilities. The young Spectre shook off the thought and pushed onward. Death before retreat.

It was another minute beforeshe saw it. It was blurry, but definitely there. A map of the stars with locations marked by the computer's owner. She dragged her mind across the image. Her lips moved as she read the names of the marked systems. One of them was a telecommunications hub owned by the Salarian research guild. Childs had been using it for years to distribute her publications. Another was a well known Sirta production plant. Most of the lab's heavy equipment could be traced back to the warehouses there. The third was a small world in Sigurd's Cradle called Laena. Praxalla furrowed her eyebrows. There was nothing out that way. Nothing but...

She heard an earsplitting crack as the link was broken. She leaned back into the chair and exhaled. Every muscle in her body felt like it was on fire. As the ringing in her ears died down, Praxalla could hear air passing in and out of her lungs. After a minute's rest, she brought a hand to her forehead and wiped away a sheen of perspiration.

"Laena."

That was it. It had to be. A small planet near an enormously active star. Far from the Councils trading routes, and with no value to the local mercenary groups. It was a perfect place for the doctor to continue her research. Praxalla had done it. She had found Margaret Childs. The council would be pleased with her report. Now she just had to get back to her ship.

In the glow of the terminal, she removed her supply pack and fished out a long range communicator. She turned the dial to a preset channel and started speaking.

"Primary objective achieved. Begin purge of all mission data. Confirm, that's a total drive wipe. Extraction at exit Delta. Fifteen minutes."

With that she grabbed the communicator in both hands and snapped it in half, dropping both pieces on the floor. Leaning forward, she reached an arm behind the terminal and plucked off the data-screw. In its place, she planted a small explosive device. After priming the charge, she powered off the terminal display, plunging the office into total darkness. She rose to leave and took a step toward the door. Before she could take a second, something stopped her in her tracks. She felt something different in the air. It was subtle at first, then the smell of rotten meat met her nose. The odor was unmistakable. Vorcha. She looked down at the light coming in from under the door. It was suddenly blocked out by a shadow.

Praxalla reached for her pistol. There was a crash as a vorcha mercenary kicked open the door. He raised his rifle and snarled.

"Don't move."

Praxalla froze. She took a second to size up her options, then raised her hands and sat back in the chair.

The vorcha froze as well. Stunned that he had managed to subdue the Spectre so easily. "That's...that's good. Now keep your hands in the air."

"OK. Just don't shoot. I'll do whatever you want."

His surprise giving way to confidence, the vorcha widened his toothy grin and stepped forward.

"That's right. You will. Now move away from the terminal...slowly."

Praxalla looked up at her own hands. "Do I have to keep my hands in the air? Because this is kind of a deep chair, and I might need some help getting out of it."

Still aiming the rifle he said "What? I...No. Just figure out a way."

"Can I use one of my hands maybe, just to push off?"

"No you can not!"

She flashed a helpless pout. "Well I'm out of ideas. Maybe you can figure this one out."

The vorcha spat out an expletive in his own language. "Don't push me Spectre, or I swear I will-"

Before he could finish the sentence, Praxalla leaned back in the chair and kicked the computer clear off the desk. It flew across the room and hit the his chest with enough momentum to carry him into the hallway. Before he could rise to his feet. Praxalla vaulted the desk, dashed toward him, and slammed her foot into the side of his head. There was a sickening crunch, and the vorcha sank under the weight of the displaced terminal.

Now standing in the hallway, she looked to her left. Between her and the elevator were at least seven additional vorcha mercinaries. They were gathered around a massive, armored Krogan. He made eye contact and yelled.

"There she is. Move!"

Praxalla spun on her heel and bolted in the opposite direction. The mercenaries took off in pursuit. Just as they were stepping over the fallen vorcha, she tapped a key on her Omni-tool. The explosive detonated, and the hallway erupted into a fireball, spewing embers and burning paperwork. She smiled and kept running.

A little further down, the corridor opened up into a large room. It was a square space, stacked with shelves and storage lockers. She saw shuttle parts, engine blocks, weapon components, but no exits. It was a dead end. She shut the door behind her and sealed the lock. The door was solid steel, but it wouldn't hold up against a vorcha arc torch. They would be on her soon if she didn't keep moving. Praxalla took a deep breath and tried to calm herself.

"There's always a way out." She said aloud.

She lit up her Omni-tool and pulled up blueprints of the structure. She traced her path and located her position on the map. According to the schematics, she was in an auxiliary supply bay. She rotated the three dimensional image and spotted a ventilation shaft leading from the bay to a maintenance corridor. If she made it there, she could ride an engineering lift all the way to the surface, not far from her waiting ship. Unfortunately the shaft had been out of use for some time, and the entrance was hidden behind a pile of equipment.

She closed the interface and found the pile. She began pulling materials away from the shaft entrance. First she tipped over a row of lockers, then a pair of propeller blades and a set of shuttle drive axles. The pieces hit the floor with noisy clangs. As she worked to escape, she heard the mercenaries banging on the other side of the door. Before long the banging was replaced by silence. The scent of burning sulfur filled the room. They were lighting a blow torch.

A minute later Praxalla pulled away the last box of engine parts. She was almost through, but a large steel panel had been laid over the shaft. She bent down and tried to move it with her hands, but it was heavy and only budged an inch.

"Move damn it."

Suddenly a red glow filled the room. The lock melted and fell away from the door, leaving a small gap in the steel. Through the gap peered the red eyes of a Vorcha Pyro. Praxalla lifted a pistol from her hip and sent a shot right between them. The beast fell sideways to reveal the Krogan standing behind. He charged and slammed into the door. It swung open, and he stepped into the room. The space seemed suddenly much smaller.

"Enough running little Spectre. You're coming with me."

"I appreciate the offer, but I think I've got a better one."

With a surge from her biotic amps, she tore the panel free from the shaft and launched it straight into the Krogan's face. It tore past his cheek, leaving a gaping wound. As he clutched at his cheek, Praxalla dropped to her knees and dove for the opening. She slid her arms and shoulders through, but was suddenly snagged on something. She could feel the Krogan's hand squeeze around her ankle.

"You're… coming …with me!"

"Sorry, but this little Spectre isn't done running yet!"

She bent at the waist and slammed her free foot into his chin. The Krogan growled and released his grip. Praxalla fell into the shaft and landed on a metal surface a few meters down. Without looking back, she began to crawl as fast as she could manage. The mercenaries would not be able to fit through the space, but it wouldn't be long before they found away arround.

…

The maintenance corridor was dark and damp. Humidified air rose up, condensed along a network of pipes overhead, and dripped down the walls to accumulate in muddy puddles on the floor. Yellow lamps flickered dimly at intervals. The light caught the contours of steam pipes and cast long shadows. An industrial hum permeated the space, punctuated only by the sound Praxalla's footsteps. She moved steadily and cautiously, with her gun up and ready. If her calculations were right, the lift would not be far ahead.

As she stepped over a large power cable on the floor, she heard something stir in the darkness behind her.

She raised her pistol. "Who's there?"

She heard a few rushed footsteps. A circular piece of scrap metal tumbled out from the shadows, rolled toward her, and fell at her feet. Then there was silence.

She aimed at the source and called out again. "Who is that? Speak up unless you like the taste of hot tungsten."

At first there was no response, but then a figure stepped out of the shadows. Praxalla could not believe her eyes. She had to squint to be sure.

"T'Soni?"

The figure stepped into brighter light and smiled. Praxalla lowered her gun.

"Goddess, I almost shot you. What are you doing down here."

Still smiling, Liara said, "Believe it or not I'm here to rescue you."

"Me? My mission is classified. How did you even know which planet I was on?"

"The council was worried about you. When they missed your last report, they sent Shepard to pick up your trail."

"Shepard? He's here?"

"Yes. The Normandy landed about an hour ago. When the alarms started, I hacked the security system and guessed you would find your way down here. It won't be long before those mercenaries follow the same trail. We need to move."

Praxalla exhaled and holstered her pistol. "I can't argue with that. I think there's an elevator up ahead."

"There is. That's how I got down here. It's this way." Liara motioned with her hand. "Just stay close. It's easy to get lost down here."

In the dim light they started moving. Their shadows stretched out in front of them as they walked.

"It's been a long time T'Soni. What is it now? Forty years? Fifty? I didn't think I'd see you again."

Liara laughed. "I thought the same about you. I'm sure we'll have more than a few stories to trade once we're on board the Normandy."

Praxalla nodded and smiled. "From what I hear, you've got me beat in that department. Is it true that you were there for the final battle with Harbinger?"

"Yes. Front and center I'm afraid"

"One of these days you're going to have to tell me how you lived through that."

"You can count on it." Liara said. Then her eyes narrowed a bit, and she asked "Have you had any success with Dr. Childs?"

"I had my big break just a few minutes ago, right before the mercs started tearing up the place. The good doctor went to some pretty great lengths to cover her tracks, but I found files on her computer that gave her away."

"Her computer? The security report stated that all her personal data drives had been wiped clean."

"The computer in her office was a decoy. She was storing all of her actual research on a terminal in an engineering annex. The engineering department runs on a skeleton crew that barely uses the terminals. It was a natural place to hide information that she wanted to keep secret."

Liara's face lit up. "So how much of the raw data were you able to recover?"

"None. She took it with her."

"So she isn't dead after all."

"No. And I know where she's hiding."

"Where?"

"Come on Liara. This is beyond confidential. I would be more comfortable discussing it with another Spectre. I'll give Shepard a full debriefing when we get to the Normandy."

Liara stopped walking and crossed her arms. "Another Spectre? We grew up together. Are you really going to treat me like a stranger?"

"Look, I'm sorry. But I've been a deep cover agent for years now. Trust isn't part of my normal repertoire. It's not personal."

"It should be. I risked my life to come down here. I may not be a Spectre, but I've been working with one for years. You _know_ that. The least you can do is answer a simple question."

Praxalla let out an exasperated sigh. "Alright, fine. Dr. Child's is on Laena, out in Sigurd's Cradle. Happy?"

"Very."

"Then can we get moving please? I've seen enough vorcha faces for one day."

Liara nodded and they continued onward toward the elevator. As they approached the industrial lift chamber, Liara spoke up again. "Are you absolutely sure that you didn't see any of the research? Laena's a big place to search. Any information might help to pin her down."

Praxalla was getting annoyed now. "Would you relax? I'll be searching right there with you, and I'll be happy to—"

In mid sentence she noticed something that caught her attention. She stopped walking and turned toward her companion.

"Liara, didn't you say that you rode this elevator down here?"

"That's right."

"Then why is the lift still at the surface. It hasn't been called down yet."

Liara followed her companion's eyes to the empty chamber. She looked back at Praxalla and tilted her head slightly to one side. "Well I suppose you were going to find out sooner or later."

Praxalla narrowed her eyes and then opened them widely. "You…you're not T'Soni."

She reached for her gun, but Liara batted it away with surprising strength. It slid down the corridor and disappeared between the flickering lights. Praxalla took a step backward.

"What the—"

A hand shot out and closed around her neck. She was lifted up against the wall, a sharp edge digging into her back. Two blue eyes stared into hers.

"No. I'm afraid I'm not."

Praxalla brought up her arms and tugged at the fingers clasped around her throat. The grip would not give.

"Shhhh. Just relax. It would be better to save your strength."

Praxalla growled and continued to fight the grip. In a fit of desperation she bioticaly pulled a pieced of jagged scrap metal from the floor and sent it flying toward her attacker. With lighting reflexes, the false Liara spun Praxalla around, using her as a human shield. The metal lodged in her lower back and jutted out through her abdomen. She gasped and coughed up a spurt of blue liquid.

Still holding her throat, the attacker just frowned and shook her head. "Now look at you." She wiped some blood off of the wounded Spectre's chin. "I suppose it doesn't matter anyway. You've told me what you know, and you know what?" She leaned in close. "I believe you."

Praxalla, too injured to speak, could only stare with pure rage in her eyes.

"It's sort of funny really. This reminds me of a passage I used to read in school. A poem from the Matriarch Kala'shi. Stop me if it sounds familiar. 'I do not fear the blackest night, for the darkness, like a grindstone, sharpens my senses. Every sound is a suspect, every form a threat. My battlements are strong and my sentries ready. What I fear is the light of day, for in the violet glow of the Thessian sun, all things are beautiful. And even the most dangerous enemies approach as friends.'"

With those last words something strange began to happen. First the attacker's eyes changed color. Then her bone structure began to distort. It was like looking at a face under a thin layer of rippling water. Her features melted and re-solidified. As she watched, Praxalla's rage gave way to recognition, and then to terror. With her last ounce of strength she opened her mouth and screamed.

…

Liara sat up in bed and clutched at her chest. Her heart was racing. She looked around the cabin, expecting to see something terrible, but all was quiet and still. She closed her eyes and took a moment to catch her breath. Slowly she leaned back onto the pillow. The surface was cool against her cheek. For a while she stared up at the stars passing overhead. After she had calmed down, Liara turned to Shepard, but he was still asleep.

She pulled the sheets up around her shoulders. The sensation of linen sliding across her bare skin brought warm memories of the hours before she fell asleep. Less than twenty four hours aboard the Normandy and already so much had happened. It felt good to be reckless for once; to not think about the consequences. She rolled onto her side. It calmed her just to look at him; to take in the features and scars. It seemed like an eternity that she had known Shepard, but she rarely had the chance to study his face. She traced a spiral on his shoulder blade with her fingertip and smiled. Then she realized he was smiling too.

"How long have you been awake?" she asked.

"Since you sat up a minute ago. I was going to say something, but I'm enjoying this too much."

"What?"

"Just lying here with you. I don't think I've ever slept as well as I did last night."

"So sleeping was the highlight?"

He laughed and pulled her close to him. She let her muscles go soft and submitted to the squeeze.

"Seriously though. Are you OK?"

"Yes. I think so anyway." She looked around the room once more. "Did you hear anything just before? I could have sworn I heard a scream."

Shepard furrowed his eyebrows in thought. "Nope. No screaming. At least not in the last few minutes." He pulled her on top of him and squeezed a little tighter. She laughed and rolled off on the other side.

She rested an elbow on the bed and propped her head up on her palm. "I don't know then. Bad dreams I suppose."

"_Unlikely. Vivid dreams typically occur during REM sleep, and I detected no ocular movement preceding Dr. T'Soni's episode."_ The disembodied voice came from somewhere in the room.

Shepard sat up and pulled the sheets tighter around his waist. "Hanna? Is that you?"

The interface over the desk materialized into the face of the curious geth intelligence.

Shepard turned red. "I asked that there be no cameras in my cabin!"

"_And I complied. There are no cameras on deck one. However, in order to maximize the Normandy's stealth capacity, the walls of every interior surface are coated with a material that has photo-absorptive properties. I have learned to extrapolate feedback from the photo-detectors into visual information."_

"I don't care about the details. I don't want to be watched."

The panels around Hanna's eye flicked up and back. _"Interpreting the data as real time video footage would be far too complex for any organic. Your privacy is secure."_

"Secure? The geth that watches my eyelids while I sleep is confident that my privacy is secure."

Shepard made a move to get up. "Can you at least turn around for a minute?"

"_It would be meaningless for a synthetic intelligence to comply with that request."_

Shepard rubbed his eyes with both hands. "Never mind. Just try to ignore the photo detectors while I'm getting changed."

"_I will focus my consensus elsewhere."_

"Thank you Hanna."

The display swirled and disappeared. Liara covered her mouth and started laughing.

"It's not funny," Shepard said "We're going to have to deal with her from now on."

"Oh, go easy on her. She's just a child when you think about it." Liara said. She stood and stretched her arms over her head.

"All the more reason to keep her out of our cabin." Shepard answered, looking up at her.

"Our Cabin?" Liara laughed again and walked over toward the shower. "I think I am going to enjoy this mission." Just as she passed the desk, a message lit up in his inbox display.

* * *

><p>SPECTRE ID: SHEPARD – HUMAN<p>

PRIORITY: ALMARCRUX

* * *

><p>"There's a communication from the council here for you." Liara called over her shoulder. "They will be expecting you to contact them as soon as possible."<p>

"Of course they will." Shepard answered, rising and scratching his head.

"I was going to take a shower, do you want me to wait outside until your done with them?"

"Of course not. Go ahead and take one now."

"When they hear water running in the background, they'll know you have someone up here with you. That's not exactly professional behavior on a mission."

He pulled a shirt down over his head.

"One of the benefits of being Commander Shepard…" He kissed her on the lips, "is not having to give a damn." Liara smiled and stepped into the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

Shepard turned toward the terminal. A ribbon of blue light ran up and down his face. The shower started behind him as the QE communicator came online.

A hologram of the asari councilor, Nisa T'Sukk, appeared and nodded in greeting.

_"Commander Shepard. I hope all is well on your journey so far."_

Shepard sat back in his chair. "No complaints yet. Charting space is certainly easier without Reaper scouts hiding behind every moon. We will be approaching the Caspian system within the hour."

"That's good to hear." She looked downward and then back up at him. "I would have preferred to bring you better news, but I am afraid that an unfortunate complication has arisen."

"I can't say I'm surprised. What's up?"

"We were not entirely honest with you yesterday when we told you that you were the only Spectre investigating the disturbance at Almarcrux. As you know, Spectre assignments are cloaked in the deepest secrecy, even from other agents. At the time of Dr. Child's initial disappearance, we sent an asari Spectre named Praxalla Naveet to search for her."

Shepard heard the shower shut off behind him. The name must have gotten Liara's attention.

"In her most recent report, Praxalla suggested that she had picked up a promising trail. She claimed to have found something that would be crucial to our search."

"And you didn't think it was important to share this with me?"

"Praxilla prefers to work alone and in deep cover. She is one of our finest agents, but she is also a little unpredictable. You were to serve as a more reliable backup in case something went wrong."

"And it has?"

"Yes. She was discovered by security guards in the Almacrux lab complex."

"You mean that her cover is blown?"

"No. I mean that she is dead. Her body was found less than an hour ago in a maintenance corridor. The security department will provide you with the details when you arrive."

Shepard rubbed his eyes again. He had prepared himself for interviewing a few scientists. Now he was following up a Spectre assassination. Either way, everything pointed to that lab.

"Alright. I'll find out what I can."

"Just be careful Shepard. The Reapers may be gone, but I'm becoming more and more convinced that a new sort of war has already begun. Local governments have not yet settled from the chaos, and there are many opportunities for those with… moral flexibilities… to position themselves in powerful places. At least with the Reapers we knew who the enemy was. Now I'm not sure who I can trust, even here at the Citadel. In the coming weeks I expect to see many honest people fall with knives in their backs. Make sure you're not among them."

With that the image went dark. Shepard stared into space for a moment, considering what had been said. When he turned around he saw Liara standing in the doorway. There was a towel around her waist, and tears in her eyes.

* * *

><p><strong>Next: To Open a Door<strong>


	22. To Open a Door

"Many claims have been leveled at the ExoGeni Corporation in recent years. We have been called immoral, dishonest, and even heartless by various media outlets. These comments betray an astonishing level of ignorance. The people who decry our methods are the very same who benefit from our advances. In order to secure long term goals, the good people at ExoGeni are often forced to make snap decisions that others might find morally questionable. What happened to the days of honor and nobility; when it was considered virtuous to sacrifice one life in order to save a thousand?"

-Public Statement by the CEO of ExoGeni.

It was taken down by the company's PR department three minutes after being posted.

...

**Chapter 2: To Open a Door**

* * *

><p>The Normandy pierced through the thick methane atmosphere over Almarcrux and slowed to sub-orbital velocity. As the engines throttled back, the helix drive let out a soothing purr.<p>

"Approaching drop altitude commander."

"Roger that Joker. Drop in five."

Shepard looked over at Junior Lieutenant Hewitt, who sat across from him on the Kodiak bench. He was young, but his dossier was solid. After a shaky debut during a Cerberus raid last year, Hewitt had developed into an exceptional combatant. Six months ago he had earned a name for himself during the battle of Gremar. The Reapers had lost the bulk of their fleet, but were still fighting fiercely to hold certain areas. After his company was flanked by a contingent of shock troops, Hewitt watched as his commanding officer was torn apart by cannibals. Most soldiers would have turned tail and run, but Hewitt stood his ground. He grabbed the officer's communicator and single handedly rallied the counterattack. Since then he had reached the top of his class in marksmanship and field tactics. Strangely aversed to rifles, Hewitt always carried a smaller automatic. He was especially deadly with an M-25 Hornet. His fellow troops gave him a lot of crap for using a Cerberus gun, but he just smiled and took it. Supposedly he and Jack had an inside joke about using the enemies' weapons against them.

A green light flashed on Shepard's Omni-tool. He banged once on the cockpit divider. The marines looked up at him. He gave a stiff nod. They nodded back and hung onto their shoulder harnesses. With a second bang he signaled the drop. An alarm tone rang out, and the Normandy bay doors opened. The Kodiak's magnetic brakes released.

After countless drops, Shepard still felt butterflies in his stomach as the shuttle slipped backward out of the bay and plummeted toward the planet surface. The feeling subsided after they cleared the stratosphere, and the engines hit full forward thrust. He had hoped Liara would keep him company among the new faces, but she had been too upset by the news of Praxalla's death. When he had asked for details about their relationship, she declined to talk about it. She only said that she needed time alone. He told her to take all the time she needed. He had a shuttle full of the Alliance's finest and didn't expect any combat on this run anyway.

From the side window Shepard had trouble visualizing the planet's surface. Almarcrux was a water rich world that rotated slowly. As the ice on the dark side came into the sun, it melted and breathed off a dense fog that could spread for hundreds of miles. At this hour, the facility was right in the heart of it. The pilot switched to ultrasonic topography scanning and directed the Kodiak to a landing pad on the north side of the lab. The shuttle touched down and opened it's doors. Shepard's company stepped out into the mist.

On the entrance ramp they were greeted by a young woman in an ExoGeni uniform; white lab coat with a red stripe across the chest. She approached and saluted. Shepard recognized her as Doctor Brynn Cole.

After a solid handshake he said "Dr. Cole. Last time I saw you, you were wearing Cerberus colors. Now it's ExoGeni. From one shady organization to the next."

"Commander Shepard. You, more than anyone, should know better than to make judgments based on associations."

They turned and began walking toward the main entrance. The troops followed at a distance.

"I wasn't judging doctor. I just can't help but notice that you have an interesting habit when it comes to picking your projects. If I didn't know better, I'd say you were looking for trouble."

"You made the same implication when you met me on Gelix. Do you remember what I told you then?"

"That science must never bow to tyranny."

"That's right. ExoGeni, Cerberus; it makes no difference to me. They are all just a means to an end."

"I thought family life might have changed your outlook."

"On the contrary commander. I've found that raising a child only serves to strengthen my convictions. I want to build a better world for my little girl. It's an unfortunate side effect that dangerous people tend to follow scientific advances very closely. Wherever there are breakthroughs, there will be those seeking to weaponize them."

A pair of thick, bulletproof glass doors parted, and the group passed through into a white hallway. It was nearly featureless, and well lit by recessed halogen lamps running along the floor. They paused briefly under a UV decon station and continued onward. The military boots of the visitors made squeaking noises that elicited annoyed looks from the scientists.

"How is she? Your daughter I mean."

"She's well, for the most part. She was born with a minor heart defect that had to be closed with a synthetic flap. Fortunately, the pediatric surgeons here are top notch. Just one of the benefits of living full time in a scientific facility."

"How about her father? Is Jacob stationed here too?"

Dr. Cole paused for a moment and looked flustered for the first time.

"He's… well I… I'm not sure how much you were briefed about the situation with Dr. Childs, but I assume you know that a search and rescue team went out looking for her a few days ago."

"Right. I heard that they had disappeared."

She brushed a stray hair from her eye. "Jacob was leading the team."

"I'm sorry Brynn."

"Don't be. I haven't given up hope yet. Jacob is very resourceful."

"I've seen that first hand." Shepard put a hand on her shoulder. "I'm still trying to get my bearings in all of this, but I'll make it a priority to get him home safe if I can."

She smiled and kept walking.

Shepard asked "How much do you know about Dr. Child's work?"

"Quite a bit. I was one of the senior members on her team. We were observing magnetic field disturbances and particle emission patterns around Caspian, the blue star in this system."

"Any idea what Child's was so concerned about?"

"Two things really got her attention. The first was that the erratic activity started on the same day as that the last known Reaper was destroyed."

"And the second?"

"To understand that, you need to know something about stars. Normally, every star has its own unique energy signature. The signature depends on the stars mass, as well as the exact mixture of hydrogen, helium and heavier elements burning within. We can use it like a fingerprint to identify stars, even at great distances. Theoretically, no two signatures should be alike, but over the past two months, Caspian's signature has changed. It is now identical to a star in Andromeda."

"I'm not familiar with that system."

"That's because it's not a system. Andromeda is a galaxy; the nearest to the Milky Way, but still over two and a half million light years away."

"So what does that mean?"

"Frankly, I have no idea. Childs had some wild theories though. She suspected that someone was trying to open up a gateway between the two galaxies."

"For what purpose?"

"If she had any thoughts on that, she kept them to herself. As far as I'm concerned, there's only one reason to open a door, and that's if you plan to walk through it."

At that moment the conversation was arrested by the sound of heavy footsteps coming from down the hallway. Shepard looked up to see a man in a suit followed by an entourage of eager looking scientists. He had a hooked nose and beady little eyes.

"Dr. Cole, I don't want anyone speaking to this man about ongoing projects, or anything else for that matter." He stepped up to Shepard and wrinkled his forehead. "Commander Shepard I presume." He stared over Shepard's shoulder at the contingent of troops. "I would have expected the council to be a bit more discreet."

"I don't think we've met Mr. …"

"_Doctor_ Evan Schneider."

"A Spectre is dead _Doctor_ Schneider. Security will take precedent over discretion until we know exactly what happened here."

"I'll have you know that all of our research is protected by the treaty of Sur'Kesh. If you repeat anything you see here-"

"Relax doctor. No one's here to steal your research. I just need to ask you a few questions. Perhaps there is somewhere we could speak privately."

"Fine. Just tell your grunts to refrain from touching anything."

"You hear that grunts?" Shepard called over his shoulder.

"Hoorah!" came the reply, followed by a chorus of laughter. Hewitt slapped a passing salarian on the back.

Cursing under his breath, Dr. Schneider led Shepard back to his office.

…

Schneider sat in his chair, tenting his fingers and clearing his throat with mounting impatience. Shepard was still on his feet, walking around the office and observing its decorations as he spoke.

"You know what I find interesting doctor? After all your _cooperation_, you still haven't provided the council with any information regarding Dr. Child's personal shuttle. Serial codes, com signatures, hailing frequency; all a black box to us. If I didn't know any better I'd say you were going out of your way to keep the Council in the dark. Are you really telling me you don't have that information?"

"No. I'm telling you that I have no intention of providing it." He leaned forward in his chair. "Perhaps if the council had shown us any measure of competence, I would be more inclined to help. First they send an undercover agent without bothering to consult me. She ends up dead after snooping around a maintenance shaft. Do they handle the situation delicately? No! They send GI Joe and company. Now I have to worry about a bunch of apes stumbling around our labs, stalling research that cannot afford to be held back by some halfwit investigation."

"Stalling research? It's interesting that you're so concerned with the prospect of delaying a few publications. You've got much bigger trouble headed your way."

"What is that supposed to mean? You think you Spectres scare me. Even you need some manner of evidence before you can take action."

"I think you're missing my point doctor. You see, that Spectre was an asari."

"And that's supposed to bother me?"

"The thing is, the asari government doesn't take it lightly when one of their elite is murdered. They will want retribution."

"I have assurances from the council that I am not to be disturbed."

"The council? The council has nothing to do with it. When you piss off the asari, you don't get Spectres. You get Justicars."

Shepard watched a lump rise in the doctor's throat.

"I take it you've never seen a Justicar work before. Let me assure you just how little they care for councils or contracts. They are above the law, they have no superiors, and they are driven by one singular purpose. If a Justicar even suspects that you are standing between her and her objective, she will tear you apart with a methodology that would chill the blood in your veins. She'll start small" Shepard spread out his fingertips and looked from one to the next. "If you manage to keep your sanity through that, you will be rewarded with the exquisite sensation of feeling your limbs pulled out by the roots…one…by…one."

He sat down in the chair opposite Schneider. "If, on the other hand, you tell her exactly what she wants to hear, and if she is feeling merciful, she might just send you to the goddess quickly."

Shepard leaned back and put his boots up on the desk. "Now I would be lying if I said that I could stop the investigation entirely, but if you help me now, I might be able to convince the asari to send a more…sympathetic inquisitor."

Schneider said nothing. Shepard could see his fingers trembling.

"I'm not here for your research doctor, and you have my word that anything I learn today will be kept strictly confidential. I'm here for Childs. That's it. I know that you're not telling me everything. One hour ago ExoGeni has sent out a press release stating that Praxalla Naveet died in an industrial accident. That she wandered into a restricted area, got a little too close to company machinery, and was killed by an errant piece of scrap metal. Don't insult your own intelligence by peddling that load of crap. Killing a Spectre takes more than rusty machinery. Something happened in that tunnel and it wasn't an accident. I can help you, but only if you start talking."

Schneider took off his glasses and set them on his desk. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he got the chance, the door was thrown open, and a large krogan stepped in. Schneider looked up and said "Damnit Sabrak, I'm in a meeting."

"I'm sorry sir, but I just received word from corporate. They're demanding company silence regarding the incident. The CEO is meeting with the council next week. All investigations are to be suspended until then." He looked at Shepard "This interview is over."

Schneider nodded slowly. "Commander Shepard, this is our director of security."

Shepard stood and sized him up. The krogan was clearly a veteran. He had more than a few scars, as well as a fresh wound on his left cheek.

"That's a nasty looking cut. Been in a fight recently?"

Sabrak raised a hand to his face. "Training accident. One of our new recruits swung a baton when I was standing behind him."

"Right. Better keep some ice on that."

Doctor Schneider spoke up "I'm sorry commander. I'm afraid my hands are tied."

Shepard would have pressed the issue, but could see that he would get nowhere with the hired muscle standing around. ExoGeni always maintained a strong private security force. If Sabrak was the director, he would have to be taken seriously.

"I understand doctor. I'm sorry we couldn't come to an agreement, but I thank you for your time. If you don't mind, I'll keep my troops on the planet for a while. We'll set up camp beyond the facility walls. That way we can be sure to stay out of your way."

"Fair enough commander. See that you do."

As Shepard stepped toward the door, Sabrak stopped him. "Oh commander, be careful not to place your camp too close to an ice bed. They look sturdy enough, but the funny thing about ice is that it melts from the bottom up. So when you're standing on the surface, there's no way to tell how close you are to falling through. One minute you're high and dry; the next you're trapped underneath, wishing you had walked away when you had the chance."

Shepard just nodded and walked out.

…

"So what do you want to do?" Hewitt asked. He sat on a large rock abutting the camp. The troops had erected a number of temporary structures on a ridge overlooking the lab.

"I want to know why they killed her." Shepard answered.

"You think it was Schneider?"

"No. I doubt that little worm has any idea what's going on. He's just following orders. Someone over his head told him to make things difficult for me. That same person is worried that I'll he'll let something slip."

"So what are they hiding?"

"I have no idea. I just applied pressure until I got a reaction. Praxalla found something in that lab, and they killed her for it. Whatever it is, there's got to be a clue on the ExoGeni servers."

"They know you're suspicious now. What's keeping them from wiping their drives?"

"Overconfidence. Sabrak thinks he has me pinned down. Take a look at that."

Shepard pointed to a large searchlight sweeping through the lab. The beam passed over the outer walls and down through the courtyard.

"Watch as it hits the observation tower." Shepard said.

Hewitt saw the beam climb the wall and up the tower. When it reached the top, there was an odd shimmering in the air. The light passed and darkness returned.

"What was that?" Hewitt asked.

"Sniper. He's cloaked, but I'll bet anything his cross-hairs are settled right between my eyes. As long as we're sitting tight, it's business as usual in there. We need to find a way in, but we can't move from the camp."

"At the risk of belaboring the question… what do you want to do?"

Shepard smiled and removed a small key from his pocket. He handed it to Hewitt and said "inside the shuttle, you'll find a strong box marked 'K.' Open it and bring me what you find."

Hewitt walked over to the Kodiak and located the compartment. He inserted the key, and the panel popped open. Inside, he found a small electronic device, which he immediately recognized as a long range communicator. There was something strange about it though. Normally, communicators had a dial that could be used to change frequency. The dial on this one was broken off, meaning that it could be only used to contact one other number.

Hewitt made his way back to the camp and sat down on the rock.

"Now what?"

"Make the call."

"I have no idea who I'm calling. What should I say when they answer?"

"No one is going to answer. You will get signal confirmation followed by complete radio silence. Don't say hello. Don't introduce yourself. Don't even clear your throat. Say three words and nothing else."

"And which words are those commander?"

"Silence...is...golden."

* * *

><p><strong>Next: A Ghost in the Mist<strong>


	23. A Ghost in the Mist

"For twenty five years I made a career of catching the uncatchable. I peered into the darkest corners of the galaxy to find the most elusive criminals. I learned what drives them deeper underground. I learned what draws them back to the surface. I learned where to set my traps and how to bait them. In short, I became very good at my job. But in all the time I spent chasing her, I might as well have been grabbing at smoke with my bare hands. She is a shade among the blind; a whisper among the deaf; a ghost among the living. Any thief can hide in the shadows. It takes a true master to become one."

-Spectre Jondum Bau, when asked about his failed pursuit of Kasumi Goto

**...**

**Chapter 3: A Ghost in the Mist**

* * *

><p>It was dawn on the third day when another shuttle dropped from the Normandy. The blue sun Caspian was poised somewhere below the horizon, and the sky was just beginning to soften. Soon the warm air would rise up from the planet's terminator, melting the ice that had frozen the night before. The vapor would climb, the water would condense, and the lab would be wrapped in a nice, thick fog.<p>

For now the morning was cold. Shepard cupped his hands and breathed into them. Hewitt stood next to him, stamping his feet to keep warm. Both men stared up at the sky. At first they saw nothing. Then an object fell through the clouds. The engines engaged, and the Kodiak roared overhead with an arc of burning methane in its wake. The two marines stepped back from the LZ as the shuttle touched down on the frosty surface. Shepard knew that there were two passengers aboard. Because he was being watched, he would only greet one of them.

Liara was wearing her blue and white lab coat. She kicked a large duffel from the shuttle interior, then jumped down after it. Shepard rushed to meet her.

"You didn't have to come all this way just to see me." He said as he hoisted the bag up on his shoulder. "This planet is no picnic."

She smiled and wrapped an arm around his waist. "Who says I'm here to see you?"

As they walked away from the shuttle, Shepard readjusted the strap and said "this bag weighs a ton. How much did you pack?"

"Just some equipment I need for my examination."

"Examination? Examination of what?"

"Praxalla."

Shepard stopped in his tracks and turned to face her.

"Excuse me?"

"I think ExoGeni lied on the official autopsy report. I would like to perform an examination of my own."

"Of course they lied. They've lied about everything. That's why I've conceived such a brilliant plan to extract all the information we need. Having you in the lab will only complicate things."

"I need answers Shepard. I'm going in whether you like it or not."

"Dr. Schneider will never agree."

"I contacted him last night. He's agreed to the autopsy as long as I come alone. They've already cleared a room for me."

Shepard dropped her bag in the dirt. "I don't like this Liara. That entire facility is crawling with people I don't trust. Going in alone doesn't make any sense, especially while I'm trying to orchestrate a data heist."

Liara leaned in and kissed him on the forehead. "I know you're worried about me Shepard, but I can handle myself. And besides…" She looked back at the shuttle. "I won't really be alone, will I?"

"Where is she by the way?"

"Already on the move."

**…**

As sunlight broke over the horizon, mist spread out onto the plains. The ground was a wet mix of silt and clay, dotted with crusts of ice. Kasumi stepped around these, careful to avoid the resulting crunch.

Unlike many trained thieves, Kasumi Goto had never had the benefit of a mentor. She had been forced to learn the trade on her own. Born to a young couple in Old Osaka, Kasumi grew up in the shadows. Her mother died shortly after she was born, and the grief drove her father to alcoholism. As a result, their house was a grim and uninviting place. Whenever she came home from school, Kasumi would sneak off into a quiet corner to read and practice her calligraphy. When she had to move about, she did so silently, trying her best to avoid attention. She learned to walk across floorboards without letting them creek. When her father got belligerent, she would slip out the window and skulk around the rooftops until he sobered up. One evening, after a particularly nasty spat involving a punch and a broken desk chair, she decided not to return.

While the other children played games in the streets, Kasumi observed from above. The views provided a sort of detached perspective for her. Watching thousands of lives play out below made her own problems seem distant and small. Sometimes she would close her eyes and feel the wind whip around her face. It felt as if her name, her past, and her entire identity were blown clear from her body.

As she grew, so did her abilities. She climbed higher and higher among the towers, sticking to the shadows and dodging the lights of patrol ships. The higher she went, the wider her view. The crowd grew ever larger and further away. Her feet were steady and silent; her vision focused and clear. She developed an almost preternatural ability to sense the attention of others, like a warmth on the back of her neck.

She orchestrated her first theft at age 14. While scaling a high rise in the Fukushima ward, she allowed herself to peer through through the window of an upscale apartment. The room had been decorated with a spectacular collection of eclectic paintings and sculpture. One piece in particular grabbed her attention; not for any artistic reason, but because it was so tightly defended. Under a glass case, crisscrossed with ultraviolet sensors, was a jade statue of a panther. Kasumi stared at it and marveled at the lengths to which someone had gone to protect it. In a world where so many people were tossed aside and forgotten, this little piece of rock was so loved.

Stealing it was easy. The window wasn't even locked, and the case's alarm was disabled by shorting out some wires in the electrical box. The real challenge was putting it back the next day. She had to bypass the updated security system as well as a pair of hired guards to reenter the space. For the rest of her life, Kasumi would remember the look on the owner's face when he came home to find his treasure back in its case. From that moment onward, she would dedicate herself to the art of silent infiltration. She would make herself truly invisible.

And now she was with Shepard. Not since she was a girl had Kasumi considered anyone a friend. Sometimes she wondered if Shepard was the exception. Of course he trusted her, but that was nothing special. The big lug trusted everyone; often to his own detriment. The real question was whether she trusted him. She had allowed him unprecedented access into her life, but always at arms reach, and never without an escape plan. She had survived this long by cutting the threads of personal attachment. It was against her every instinct to draw him closer.

Kasumi stared up at the facility walls. Those thoughts could wait until later. Now it was time to work.

**…**

The lab was quiet at this hour; the researchers still snug in their beds. There were no rattling test tubes or bubbling beakers; just an eerie stillness. The odor of disinfectant lingered in the air.

Liara unsnapped the lock on her case and opened it. The contents expanded into a set of stackable drawers. Each drawer held an array of hooks, pincers, and blades. Liara was not a physician by trade, but basic anatomy was a required subject for all educated asari. After arranging the tools to her liking, she waved a hand over the terminal, activating the voice recorder. Trying her best to maintain an air of personal detachment, she began speaking.

"Subject is an asari female, 110 years old, found deceased by ExoGeni security personnel. Their internal investigation maintains that the cause of death was massive abdominal trauma following an industrial accident. While it is true that the victim was found near potentially dangerous machinery, none of it was in use by ExoGeni staff at the time."

Liara turned to Praxalla's body. Her clothes had been removed, and she was draped in a copper colored sheet. Liara pulled the sheet down from her head and left it around her shoulders. Two black eyes stared upwards. Liara winced.

"No…no signs of facial trauma."

Her voice was shaky. This was going to be more difficult than she had expected. She was not ready to see Praxalla's face like that. She replaced the sheet. It was clear that she would have to start elsewhere. After taking a deep breath, she exposed the abdomen. A large piece of scrap metal was lodged there.

"Puncture wound to the left flank…with corresponding exit wound in the peri-umbilical region."

She removed a pair of forceps from the tray and lifted the skin around the edge of the wound.

"Lack of coagulation suggests that the victim died within minutes of injury." She took a scalpel and lengthened the wound for a better view of the damage. "Injury is extensive, though…" Something strange caught her eye. She pulled the metal aside and looked deeper.

"…though all vital organ systems are intact. No major neuro-vascular bundles have been severed. There are small lacerations on the respiratory trunks, but overall the wound is…relatively mild. How can that be unless…"

Liara took a step back and stared at the table.

"This isn't what killed you."

**…**

Shepard poked a stick into the fire and stirred up the embers.

"So what were you thinking when you signed on for this?"

"Like I told you before, I want to be a Spectre." Hewitt answered.

"That's not a reason. That's just a step in the process. I mean why military? I hear your family has money. Now that the war's over, why not settle down back home? You could be lounging in a comfy bed with a beautiful girl between the sheets. Instead you're freezing your ass off on a methane soaked ice cube with a sniper rifle aimed at your head. There's got to be something behind that."

Hewitt looked up at the purple stained clouds.

"Have you ever been to Nausicaa, out in the Artemis Tau?" he asked.

"The gas giant? I didn't think anyone went out that way. There's nothing there."

"That's kind of the point. When the Reapers first showed up, and everyone I knew was getting called out to Earth and Palaven and Thesia, my company went to Nausicaa; to one of the moons actually." Hewitt dug his heel in the dirt. "We were all rookies; kids holding rifles for the first time, shaking in our boots, talking about what we would do if we ever made it home alive. We stayed there for three weeks, warming our hands and waiting for a Reaper to drop on top of us."

He picked a stick off the ground and gave the embers a stab. The fire popped in response.

"In three weeks, during the height of the deadliest war in galactic history, do you know how many enemies I saw?"

Shepard shook his head.

Hewitt made a circle between his thumb and index finger.

"Zero. Our only casualties were two cases of pneumonia and a couple pairs of pissed fatigues. Turned out my father had pulled some strings with Alliance command to keep me as far from the fighting as possible." Hewitt shook his head. "I was so damn mad at him."

"Sounds like he really cared about you."

"Come on commander. You were a kid once. You know what it feels like to crave battle and glory. Not all of us know what it's like to save the galaxy. I know I should appreciate what I have back home, but there was always something missing. Every day I got up, went to school, got good grades, had solid prospects, but the whole time there was this voice in my head that kept asking the same question. What's the point? Life's just too short for that."

"I hate to break it to you kid, but signing up with this crew will only make it shorter."

"That's not what I mean. I'm not talking about the years. I'm talking about believing in something. I spent a lot of time looking for that on Earth, but it wasn't until I joined the Alliance that I found it. I might not live to be a hundred and ten, but I'd rather have a couple good runs with you guys than a lifetime of dragging my feet."

Shepard nodded slowly. "Well at least it sounds like you've given it more thought than I did at your age." He patted Hewitt on the back. "Can I ask you one more question?"

"Shoot."

"That night after the Cerberus raid...what exactly happened between you and Jack?"

Hewitt shook his head. "That one I can't answer."

"Why not?"

"Because, as she so eloquently put it...'if you ever tell Shepard about this, I'll rip it off.'"

Shepard laughed and stood up from his seat. "Try not to get killed too soon kid. I'm just starting to like you."

Hewitt gave a short laugh in reply. "Aye sir."

**…**

Through his scope the cloaked vorcha watched Shepard stand and stretch his arms over his head. He would probably go back to his quarters for a few hours as he did the day before. The other marine would likely be posted to guard duty. As the fog rose up to his level, he switched to thermal scans. The two bodies lit up with a green glow.

"Alliance scum." He whispered to himself.

After he was satisfied that nothing eventful was going on, he brought the rifle down to his chest. He hated working with ExoGeni. They paid well, but there was never any action. All watching and no shooting. Sniper detail was the worst of all. Sabrak demanded a static pose for the entire shift. No eating, no stretching, and no breaks for food. He cracked his neck to one side and then the other. When he tried to reposition his legs, he felt an unexpected resistance. He looked down to find that a length of cord had been tied around his ankles. A soft voice spoke up behind him.

"I'm sorry, but this is definitely going to hurt."

Before he could react, someone shoved hard against his back, launching him over the edge. As the rope went taught, he swung into the steel wall, hitting with a muted thud. Kasumi peaked down to make sure that he was unconscious, then tapped her earpiece.

"Alright Shep, that's the last of them."

"Roger that. I've already mobilized the squad. If you run into trouble, let me know, and we'll move in to get you. We should have at least an hour before Sabrak realizes that his snipers are down."

"Sounds good. I'm heading for the server room. Are you sure this transmitter will work?"

"Just inset the drive and Hanna will do the rest. Oh, and don't forget that Liara's still in there. We'll need to back her up if things go to hell."

**…**

Liara paced back and forth, wringing a pair of latex gloves in her hands.

None of it added up. All she could find was a mild abdominal wound and some bruising around the neck. Neither accounted for a near instant death.

"What happened to you Prax?" She said aloud. "What were you doing down there?"

She stopped in front of her instrument case and sat down. Pinching the space between her eyebrows, she ran through her thought process aloud.

"No lethal sharp trauma. No lethal blunt trauma. No signs of suffocation or airway obstruction. No major blood or neural fluid loss. Your circulation is fine. There are no lethal drugs in your system. You weren't drowned, burned, or electrocuted. I'm pretty sure you weren't messing around with an Ardat-Yakshi down there, and even if you were, there would be some sort of cerebral bleed."

Liara closed her eyes and started tapping her fingers against the table. She kept this up until the tip of her index finger found its way onto the edge of the scalpel.

"Ahh." She pulled her hand away and squeezed it into a fist. "Goddess, what's wrong with me." She grabbed a piece of gauze and pressed it against the cut. The square was stained blue in a matter of seconds.

Liara stood, walked over to the sink, and turned on the faucet. There was a small mirror above it. When she saw her reflection her shoulders slumped. She looked terrible. Her eyes were swollen from crying and lack of sleep. In three days her face had aged a hundred years. She leaned over the sink and rested her forehead against the mirror. Drops of blue fell from her hand and swirled down the drain.

"Damn it Prax, why did you have to go and get yourself killed."

She tossed the gauze in a hazard bin and tore open a disinfectant packet. She was about to start scrubbing her wound when something strange happened. All of the sudden, her index finger started to tingle. She rubbed it against her thumb and stared curiously at the skin there. Then it started to burn; softly at first, but waxing in intensity. She ran it under the water, but the burning only worsened. She squeezed a tight fist and closed her eyes. The pain was escalating; becoming unbearable.

"What is this?"

Liara stumbled back to the table. She looked down at the bloody scalpel.

"Something in the blood…something that didn't show up in my tests…a toxin or a…" She trailed off as a wave of nausea came over her. "…or a venom."

The realization was as painful as the burning in her hand. She bent down over Praxalla and lifted her chin. There, at the base of her old friend's throat, hidden between two bruises, was a small puncture wound; no wider than a needle, and rimmed with a faint black line.

"No."

She backed into the table, knocking her tools onto the floor. They scattered noisily at her feet.

"No, no, no. It can't be. Not here."

A mixture of pain and terror brought her to her knees. Her hands trembling, she lit up her Omni-Tool.

"Shepard!"

"I'm here. Are you OK?"

"No Shepard. Something's wrong. You need to get in here now. Bring everyone. Kasumi's in danger."

**…**

The server room was as quiet as a tomb. The master thief walked silently down the center aisle; a row of monolithic computers on either side. The row converged with two others on a central hub. It was an obsidian cube, working silently to process data for the thousands of ongoing research projects.

Kasumi kneeled by the machine and stared into it. She brought out the drive Shepard had given her. It fit into one of the data ports and lit up with a red glow. The light reflected in Kasumi's eyes. She heard Hanna's voice in her earpiece.

"_Data acquisition beginning. Engaging consensus."_

"Just hurry up. This place gives me the creeps."

Kasumi looked over her shoulder as the transfer proceeded. Beyond the glass wall, the hallway was dark. Everything was going to plan, but for some reason her instincts were on edge. She couldn't put her finger on it, but something didn't feel right.

"How are we doing Hanna?"

"_Almost there."_

Kasumi rose and paced a circle around the hub. She peered into the spaces between the servers. There was no one there, but she began to feel that familiar warmth on the back of her neck.

"I don't mean to alarm you, but I think our time is running out."

_"Copying trafficking data and cargo manifests… and … done. Transfer complete."_

Without another word, Kasumi grabbed the drive and engaged her cloak. She made her way back down the aisle and out of the server room.

**…**

Without the snipers in place, Shepard's commandos were able to cut swiftly and silently to the lab entrance. Less than five minutes after receiving Liara's distress call, they rallied at the front door. Shepard huddled his crew.

"Alright listen up. I'm not sure what's going on, but Dr. T'Soni is in some kind of trouble. Our primary objective is getting her out safely. Our infiltrator has already secured the data and is on her way out." Shepard pressed a button on the side of his rifle. "Stick to tranquilizer rounds. We're up against a private security firm, not enemy combatants. I want no unnecessary casualties. Understood?"

"Yes sir!"

"Then light up the torch, and let's get this door open."

Sergeant Ramirez, the squad's engineer, took a step forward. He knelt down and began setting up his plasma cutter. From assembly to breech, it took the average Alliance engineer ninety seconds to cut through any locked door. Ramirez was well above average, but before he had even lit the torch, the door slid open on its own. Shepard raised his rifle, but then immediately lowered it. On the other side stood Liara, and she looked like death.

Her skin was closer to white than blue, and her eyes had glazed over with a blackish haze. A trickle of blood was dripping freely from her left hand. She took a few shaky steps toward the team, and then collapsed on a railing. Shepard ran to her and caught her in his arms.

"My god what happened to you?"

She pushed him away with her uninjured hand and looked up at him.

"I'll be alright. I only got a small dose. The effects will pass."

"A small dose of what?"

"There's no time to explain. We need to find Kasumi."

"We're taking you back to the Med-bay. Kasumi will be fine. There's nothing in the galaxy that can catch her."

"That's the problem Shepard. It won't have to."

…

**East Wing: Species 38-42 Development**

Kasumi looked up at the sign. Her exit was close. Down the hallway there was an unguarded loading bay. She made her way silently toward it. The room was essentially a large garage, with loading equipment parked among palates of laboratory supplies. Getting out was a simple matter of scanning a stolen key card. With a swipe of the card, the door slid open.

As she took her first step into the morning air, Kasumi heard something move in the rear of the bay. A crate of microscope slides tumbled off a shelf and crashed on the ground. She ducked behind a forklift and turned to get a better look. There was a man standing there. He was armed, but he clearly hadn't spotted her. He was looking around in all directions; checking the floors and ceilings. Kasumi could have easily slipped out without being spotted, but then she recognized who it was.

She deactivated her cloak and stepped out into the light.

"Jacob? What are you doing here?"

He seemed startled by her apparition, but then allowed a smile.

"There you are." He took a step towards her. "I'm here to help."

**…**

Shepard walked with his arm tucked under Liara's, supporting her as they moved toward Kasumi's location. Liara rested her wounded hand on the back of his neck.

"You need to give me more to go on here. What exactly are we dealing with?"

"An ancient species; something that the asari learned to fear long before they ever left Thessia."

She was trembling as she spoke. Fresh blood was still flowing from her hand. Shepard felt it dripping down his back.

"You're loosing a lot of blood Liara. Are you sure you're going to be alright?"

"I told you not to worry about me. I-"

She stopped in mid sentence as they turned the corner. They had found Kasumi.

She was at the end of a long hallway, sitting on the floor, with her back propped against a wall. There was a figure standing over her. In the dim light Shepard could not make out the details, but Liara clearly could. She wriggled out of Shepard's hold and slipped behind his back. She grabbed onto his armor like a terrified child. He could feel her shaking. When he raised his rifle, the figure let out a ferocious growl. Before he could get a shot off, it bent low and bolted through the door; out into the mist.

Shepard holstered his weapon and ran to Kasumi. When he reached her, she was in some sort of a trance; breathing slowly and looking around for something that wasn't there. A sheen of perspiration glistened on her face. A drop of red blood hung from her chin. There was a small, black circle around the wound.

Still wary of the open doorway, Liara bent down and wiped the sweat from Kasumi's forehead. It was cold as ice.

"What can we do for her?" Shepard asked. "Will she be alright?"

"I'm not sure. The venom is meant for asari. I can't say what it will do to a human. We may still have time to reverse it..." She looked up at him. "…but we need to get her to a proper med bay quickly."

Shepard tapped on his earpiece. "Joker, bring the Normandy down to low orbit. Tell Chakwas to prep a trauma cart and have her meet us on deck five."

_"Roger that commander. We'll be waiting for you."_

Shepard bent down and picked up Kasumi. She felt nearly weightless in his arms.

"Hang in their Ghost. I'm not done with you yet."

* * *

><p><strong>Next: For Thessia<br>**


	24. For Thessia

**************CODEX UPDATED**************

**ALIENS: EXTINCT RACES: The Noctiri  
><strong>

Once indigenous to Thessia, this carnivorous species has been extinct for over fifty-thousand years. Fossil records suggest that the noctiri evolved along a parallel course with their most valued prey; the primitive asari. A nomadic race, they moved in large groups along rivers and marshy areas, hunting as they went. Their only long term settlements were built on the ruins of destroyed asari towns, where the food was most abundant. While they did show marked intelligence and aptitude for technology, the noctiri never had the chance to industrialize. Their entire population was erased in a mass extinction event, commonly attributed to prothean intervention.

Like many animal species on the eezo rich planet, the noctiri commanded unique biotic abilities. While little is known about their life expectancy, three distinct life-stages have been identified. The **_feral_ **stage was defined by superior physical strength, a tendency to hunt in packs, and a wild temperament. With maturity came the **_cultivated_ **stage, marked by a surge in biotic power and a calmer, more tactical approach to hunting. Glandular development in the _cultivated ones_ yielded a neurotoxic venom.

During the final, or **_shaman_ **stage, further glandular development allowed the venom to be concentrated, aerosolized, and secreted, similarly to human pheromones. Inhalation of this toxin induced a hallucinogenic state, during which the victim would view impending threats as familiar or calming. The asari referred to the oldest and most talented shamans as "formless ones," as they seemed to change their faces at will. While this description is technically inaccurate, the noctiri learned to take advantage of the effect in order to manipulate their prey.

Millennia after their disappearance, the asari still regard their former predators with reverence and fear. The noctiri have had a profound influence on the development of asari culture, religion, and superstition. Samples taken from well preserved fossils have allowed asari scientists to recreate a synthetic form of the venom, which they have used in situations ranging from chemical warfare to prisoner interrogation. Injection is known to leave a characteristic black ring on the skin. This mark is popularly referred to as "death's halo." It seems that all organic species are susceptible to the hallucinogenic effects of the venom, except for rachni drones, who share a hive mind with their queen.

**…**

**Chapter 4: For Thessia**

* * *

><p><em>"You did what?"<em>

The voice of the salarian councilor boomed over the QE communicator. His eyes were visibly incensed under the violet sheen of the projection field.

_"What were you thinking?"_

_"Calm down Cassus." _Said the turian councilor, raising his palms in a pleading gesture.

_"Calm down? Were you even listening to that report? He attacked a civilian research facility without cause or provocation. And worst of all, we have nothing to show for it." _ He shook his head. _"The ExoGeni CEO is going to want someone's head on a plate."_ He gestured toward Shepard. _"And I'm giving serious consideration to obliging him."_

Councilor Tarquin lowered his hands. _" I do have to admit that I expected more from you Shepard. Have you made no progress?"_

Shepard rested his hands on the table. He only wished that the asari Councilor T'Sukk were present. Surely she would appreciate the seriousness of the threat his team had encountered. Supposedly she was attending to critical business on Ilium. He would have to deal with the other two.

"My team successfully infiltrated the ExoGeni lab without a single casualty. There was no way we could have anticipated what was waiting for us inside. I am only grateful that my operatives made it out alive. If—"

_"That brings me to my other point." _ Cassus interrupted. _ "Tell me again about the unidentified ship you spotted while leaving the planet."_

"While enroute to the Normandy, our Kodiak detected a small craft leaving the atmosphere behind us. Com signatures did not match any of the ships listed on the ExoGeni manifest. I suspect that the attacker was on board."

_"And why did you not pursue? It seems your combat shuttle would have made short work of the enemy ship."_

"I made it a priority to get my wounded operative back to the Normandy med bay. By the time we arrived, the unidentified ship had disappeared from our scans."

The councilor brought a hand to his chin and shook his head once more.

_"So to sum up the situation, you not only failed to apprehend the assassin, but you stole ExoGeni research data, which you then handed over to an enemy combatant."_

"Councilor, you have to understand that whatever this thing is—"

Cassus waived off the explanation and continued.

_"I'm not interested in excuses commander. Given the scenario, I think it would be best to suspend the mission for the time being. You are to report back to the Citadel." _

Shepard looked down at the desk and sighed.

"I understand your disappointment sir, but something big is happening in the Caspian system. I'm no scientist, but they're talking about reforming stars and opening intergalactic gateways. I don't feel comfortable letting this one go."

_"The galaxy is in a state of political chaos commander. Making you feel comfortable is not among my priorities."_

"This is bigger than politics. What if the Reapers did have some sort of fail-safe. What if they—"

_"Commander!"_ The salarian interrupted. _"The council will await your official report and chart the course of action we deem appropriate. Your only concern right now is getting back to the Citadel. I will not repeat myself again."_

Before Shepard could respond, the signal went dead, and the broadcast field was reduced to a flicker of violet light. He shook his head and activated the communicator on his desk.

"Joker, take us to the Citadel."

_"Something wrong commander? You sound tense."_

"I'm fine. I'm just starting to remember how tight this Spectre leash can get."

**…**

The med bay door opened with a hiss, and Dr. Chakwas looked up from her terminal. She saw the look on Shepard's face and answered his question before he had time to ask it.

"They're both fine commander."

She rolled away from her desk and motioned to the cot behind her. "Liara is sleeping like a baby."

Shepard felt a weight lift from his shoulders. He noticed that the other cots were empty. "And Kasumi?"

"Already checked herself out."

Shepard exhaled and collapsed into a chair. Over Chakwas' shoulder, he could see the rhythmic rise and fall of Liara's chest.

"Thank you Karen. I don't know what I would do if I didn't have you to bring my people back from the dead."

She smiled and said. "It's always been a pleasure commander. Though in all my years, I've never seen a toxin quite like this one." She rolled back to her desk. "Liara was exposed to such an insignificant amount, yet her reaction was violently intense. Kasumi, on the other hand, was injected with several CCs and woke up in no time."

Liara murmured something in her sleep. Chakwas smiled.

"She should be out for another hour or so. I gave her something for the pain, and some vasoactive agents to stabilize her blood pressure."

"Will there be any long term effects from the venom?"

"I doubt it, but we'll have to wait and see to be sure."

Shepard rose from his chair and walked over to the sleeping asari. He rested a palm on her forehead. Chakwas stood and took a step toward the door.

"I think I'll leave you two alone. Nothing helps a patient more than waking up to a familiar face."

**...**

As the Normandy passed through the Maroon Sea, the view from the starboard observation deck was a veritable light show. Vast clouds of dust and ice were brought to life by a sweeping solar wind from blue giants, white quasars, and deep orange super novae. The breathtaking sight would normally have made Kasumi's day, but for some reason, she couldn't focus. As she stood before the window, her gaze kept returning to the reflection of her face in the glass.

The effects of the venom had long since worn off. Now her mind was swimming for all new reasons. Her thoughts kept coming back to the mists of Almacrux. When she closed her eyes, she could feel Shepard carrying her up the ramp and onto the shuttle. She could see the look in Chakwas' eyes as she measured out the appropriate doses of medication. She could hear the hiss of the IV machine, pumping life-saving fluids through her veins. Never before had she allowed herself to become that vulnerable; to depend so much on the help of others. And yet somehow everything had worked out alright.

Then other thoughts began to wrestle for her attention. Thoughts of lonely rooftop nights, empty safe-houses, months without a hot meal, nothing but the sound of her own heartbeat to put her to sleep. It was the life of a shadow. Of course Shepard wanted her aboard the Normandy. More than once he had asked her to stay...to become a more permanent member of his crew. But she had never really considered it. She was a thief, and thieves did not have friends. They had contacts, sources, and accomplices. But not friends.

Kasumi looked down at her gloved hands. With her left, she pinched a loose bit of fabric at the tip of her right index finger. In one smooth motion, she slipped off the glove. She ran her bare fingertips over the gauze taped to her neck, taking a moment to feel the texture. Then she slid her hand higher, up past her face and onto the cloth that hung down over her eyes. She held it there for a moment, let out a deep sigh, and then said aloud...

"Alright Shep. You win."

And with that, she pulled back the hood.

**...  
><strong>

It was Liara who woke up first.

Shepard was sitting in the chair next to her, his head slumped over his chest, his chest moving in and out with steady respiration. Liara slipped her legs out from the hospital sheets and sat on the edge of the bed. She took his hand in hers, and brought it to her cheek. The touch brought a smile to his face. He opened his eyes.

Liara leaned forward and whispered "Thank you for saving me."

For a few quiet minutes they stared into each others' eyes, then his smile disappeared and he said, "I know you're going through something difficult Liara." He removed his hand from her cheek. "But I can't help if you don't talk to me."

She turned her gaze to the floor. "I know. I know you deserve more information than I've given you. It's just that some things are buried so deep that it's difficult to drag them to the surface."

"Alright then, let's start with an easy one. How exactly did you know Praxalla?"

Liara let out a weary laugh.

"An easy one?" She cast a glance through the window. "I'm afraid the truth is more complicated than you'd expect."

She pulled her legs up on the bed and crossed them. Her cotton hospital gown fell back along her thighs.

"It all started when I was very young. You see, the asari government is broken up into a number of independent republics, and each republic has a single school. Almost all of the children living within the borders of a republic go there for basic education."

"_Almost_ all of them?"

"Every year, one child is selected from each republic to study at the Thessian Academy of Science, up in the northern reaches of the planet. For an asari student, being chosen is a great honor and a tremendous responsibility. The program is a rigorous one, meant to train future leaders of Thessia. Because my mother was a high born matriarch and my test scores were strong enough, I was chosen to represent our republic."

"You must have been thrilled."

"I was terrified. I had to leave all that I knew to travel to a strange and frigid land; isolated for twenty years of joyless study. There would be no family or friends or leisure time. I spent the entire journey preparing myself for a complete nightmare. I still remember stepping out of the shuttle and onto the campus. The sky was dark with clouds, and the wind tore at my cheeks. The matron didn't say a word as she led me into the dormitory. I had no bags or suitcases; nothing to remind me of home. It took every ounce of strength to hold back the tears as I stepped into my room. To this day, I have never felt more alone. I was so lost Shepard…and ... well the short answer is that I met Praxalla and she helped me through a very difficult time in my life. She was a better friend than I deserved, and I never let myself forget it.

"Did you keep in touch after you left the academy?"

"To some extent. Over the years we just gradually drifted apart. I became an archeologist and she became a Spectre. I always wondered whether we would meet again. I never imagined it would be like this."

"Nothing's harder than losing someone without getting a chance to say goodbye."

"It's not just that Shepard. It's the way she died."

Shepard felt a shudder pass through Liara's skin.

"A human can't possibly understand what it means to experience that sort of primal fear. You have always been the apex predators on Earth. You will never know what it's like to come face to face with a species that has been hunting, killing, and eating your kind since before they could walk on two legs. The venom that killed Praxalla works by over stimulating the entire asari nervous system at once. It is literally death by pain."

Liara turned away from Shepard, her face darkened by the shadow of her shoulder.

"Whatever happens on this mission Shepard, I will find that creature, and by the goddess, I will make it suffer until it begs for death. I only hope that you will help me."

Shepard brought his hand to Liara's chin and turned her face back towards his. Her eyes were filled with tears.

"I know what you are going through Liara. I know what it's like to want revenge so badly you can taste it. But I also know how easy it is for those feelings to blur your vision; to make you forget what you still have to lose. I do believe that we will see that creature again, but you have to understand that killing it will not bring Praxalla back. If we fight, it's only to protect those that are still alive. Fighting for the dead will only bring more misery."

For a moment Liara didn't reply. Shepard could see that she was physically and emotionally exhausted. Eventually she closed her eyes and said, "I know you're right Shepard. I just feel so...broken right now." She looked up at him. "What do you see in me anyway?"

"Honestly?" He leaned forward until his face was only inches from hers. "I like your freckles."

Liara laughed and brushed a tear from her eye. "You know that they're not really freckles. It's just a trick. Asari are built to confuse other species; to attract a diverse mating pool. That's why I look human to you."

Shepard just smiled and said "I don't care what they are. I like them." He kissed her on the cheek. "And I like you."

With that he placed a hand on the back of her head and pulled her forward until her chin was flush against his neck. He felt her tears soaking through to his skin. Together they leaned back until they were laying flat on the sheets.

They laid there for a few minutes until Liara finally said, "Shepard?"

"Yes?"

"This cot is really uncomfortable."

"You're right." Shepard sat up and smiled. "I've got a better one in mind."

**…**

"Rise and shine love birds. Citadel dock in ten minutes."

Shepard rolled over and tapped the intercom.

"Thank you Joker."

He uttered a curse under his breath and turned back to Liara. She was still asleep. As he curled his arm around her waist, he noticed a note sitting on the table by his alarm clock. He reached over and picked it up.

* * *

><p>Shep,<p>

I heard that you had to give up your mission to get me back to the Normandy safe and sound. I just want you to know that I appreciate it. Trust has never been my thing, but you've given me a lot to think about.

Thanks,

K

* * *

><p>Shepard rubbed some crust out of his eye and squinted.<p>

He whispered to himself, "What the...when was she in here?"

In response, his alarm clock interface was replaced by Hanna's glowing eye.

"_Ms. Goto entered the room roughly one hour ago, while you and Dr. T'Soni were asleep. She broke in using a sophisticated code-box decipher algorithm. I would have alerted you, but you instructed me to ignore the visual sensors in your cabin."_

Shepard just grunted and put a pillow over his head. From within he said "I've got to find another place to sleep."

**...**

"Light arms only people." Shepard locked a pistol into his back holster. "C-Sec has been jumpy lately, and I don't want to attract any unnecessary attention."

One by one, the marines hopped off the Normandy and into the Citadel bay. The sound of their boots hitting metal echoed throughout the hanger.

"My meeting with the council should be brief, so don't wander off too far." He fastened the top button on his dress uniform. "Oh and try to restrict your drinking to the cafe. I've seen how quickly things in Purgatory can get out of hand, and I don't want to have to leave anyone in a detention cell when we ship out."

There was an exaggerated 'boo' from the group. Hewitt stepped forward.

"Commander, please. You don't expect respectable gentlemen like ourselves to get involved with that sort of trouble. We are Alliance soldiers, filled with nothing but honor and restraint."

"Right Hewitt. Tell that to the janitor who has to mop your honor and restraint off of the elevator floor."

The group started laughing.

"Liara. I need you to head to the presidium and find out what you can about that ship we saw leaving Almarcrux."

"It did have a unique hull pattern. I'll see what I can dig up."

"Good."

Shepard tapped his earpiece. "Joker. These new engines take forever to refuel, so call docking control now and get the process started. I want a full tank when we leave."

_"Always a pleasure to pump gas for you sir. Glad those years at school payed off. Want me to do the windshield while I'm at it?"_

"That'll do flight-lieutenant."

Shepard was about to break up the meeting, when he heard a soft voice from behind him.

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

Shepard turned along with the rest of the crew. Their jaws dropped in unison. Standing before them was a petite human female in an emerald green dress. Her black hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail that hung down between her shoulder blades. The distinctive pattern on her lower lip was hidden by a uniform coat of crimson lipstick. Her features were girlish and soft; her eyes simultaneously dark and bright. Shepard tried to speak, but the words escaped him.

"Well don't just stare at me like I've got a Hanar hanging out of my nose. Can't a girl dress up once in a while."

"Kasumi, I... I'm just surprised to see you. What's the occasion?"

"I felt like taking a break from the shadows. Thought I might try walking on the floors for once; maybe even go shopping. You know...buying things with credits."

"Aren't you worried you'll get spotted. Half of the officers in C-Sec are looking for you."

"More than half...but none of them have seen my face."

Shepard nodded reluctantly. "Alright. I'm fine with this if you are. Just be careful out there."

"Please Shep, remember who you're talking to." Kasumi took a few noiseless steps forward.

"I think I'm going to start with a few Omni-tool upgrades." She stepped gracefully past him. "Maybe I'll head over to the Sirta-Foundation. I hear it's your favorite store on the Citadel."

Shepard rolled his eyes and watched her disappear among the crowd.

* * *

><p><strong>Next: Hide and Seek<br>**


	25. Hide and Seek

"I'm sorry Garrus, but my answer is no. Real turians learn to live with the consequences of their actions. Those people operate in a world without consequence. They answer to no one. They follow no code. They murder, manipulate and betray, all under the banner of a hypocritical government. There is no justice in that."

Jakar Vakarian, after blocking his son's nomination to the Spectres.

...

**Chapter 5: Hide and Seek**

* * *

><p>"The proceedings of the Galactic Citadel Council are hereby called to order."<p>

The grand architecture of the council chamber arched overhead. Designed by the Reapers themselves, the style was a minimalist array of bare metal surfaces, coursing with synthetic veins and corridors that seemed to pulse with an organic presence. Upon entering the council chamber for the first time, many visitors described a sensory overload. As a Hanar statesmen once put it, "This one's body was electrified and turned to stone...metaphorically of course."

At the center of the dais sat Councilor Cassus. The aging Salarian leaned deeply into the cushions of his chair, one elbow perched on a gilded armrest, his body draped in priceless silks, spun by the mottled tree spiders of Sur'Kesh. To his right sat Councilor Tarquin. Tarquin, a turian war hero, and beloved by his people, was perched on the edge of his seat. He used no cushions or armrests. His dark eyes flitted back and forth across the room. To the left of Cassus was an empty chair. Councilor T'Sukk was still absent from the Citadel. Whatever her business on Illium, it had been important enough to keep her away from the proceedings.

The first order of business was a complaint by the batarian hegemon, Ka'hairal Balak. At the beginning of the war, when the Reapers first poured out of dark space, the batarians had taken the brunt of the attack. Their most populated worlds had been so decimated by orbital strikes that the atmospheres were still clouded with vaporized radon and ferric dust. The oceans were poisoned, and all agriculture was stripped from the soil. Not a single batarian was left alive on the ground. The attacks on Earth, Palaven, and Thessia had been mild by comparison.

The batarians were left drifting aimlessly through hostile space, dodging Reapers, mercenaries, and hostile governments. At the height of their despair, Shepard pleaded with Balak to join his galactic alliance. The fighting would be tough, but everyone would survive together. Balak, still mourning the fall of his own race, trusted in Shepard's reasoning. Still reeling from their losses, the weary batarian fleet met up with the allied forces at Earth and helped push the monsters back toward the charon relay. After the battle, it was decided that the salarians, who had suffered the least at the hands of the Reapers (Sur'kesh had not seen a single enemy ship), would provide the batarians with land on some of their most hospitable planets. Under pressure from the council, the salarians agreed, and the batarians were overjoyed.

The agreement seemed solid, but it crumbled almost immediately. As soon as the first refugee ships approached their destinations, they were refused landing clearance and turned away by salarian fighters. The salarians had gone back on their word.  
>Now the batarians circled the promised planets, waiting for a place to land. Fuel was running short, and tempers were running high. Things looked bleak, and the batarians, who were looked upon as brutes and terrorists by the rest of the galaxy, had run out of friends.<p>

As Balak approached the council, the look of fatigue was clear on his face. With the entire batarian race looking to him for leadership, the once proud warrior had not slept in weeks.  
>Councilor Tarquin spoke first.<p>

"Ka'hairal Balak you have been invited here today to present your request. The council will hear it now."

Balak, who was known for his rage and quick temper, raised his eyes to the councilors. They were expecting an outburst, perhaps even violence, but he would not oblige. The council had granted him this one session. They would not give him another. The fate of his people rested on their decision. The opportunity was too important to waste on pride. Maintaining a measured tone, he began.

"Councilors, I come before you as a member of a broken race. Our worlds are gone. Our resources are lost. Our ships are drifting without purpose or destination; running cold to preserve fuel. Millions of batarians huddle together on those ships and wait for news of aid...aid that will not come. This very morning I had to lie to my advisors about the strength of our food reserves so that they will not panic. In months they will be empty, and our fuel tanks will be dry. As a child I was taught to accept death before calling for help, so I hope you understand what it means for me to come here today and beg for yours."

Cassus rolled his eyes and looked off to one side.

"I know you have no strategic reason to help us. But I do not ask for much; only what the salarians promised us. A place to land our ships... a refuge from the coldness of space.  
>They have more than enough to spare. The council saw that once, why do they not see it now."<br>With that he looked back to the floor and was silent.

Tarquin opened his mouth to reply, but Cassus cut in.

"So the salarians are supposed to just hand over some of the most sought after territory in the galaxy; land that they fought to attain in wars of their own?"

Balak looked up. "They gave me their word."

"Ah yes. Tell me batarian, why is there no record of this supposed 'promise' in the Council record?"

"The delatrass shook my hand and told me it was as good as done. She told me to mobilize my colony ships... that we would be welcomed with open arms."

"So we are to trust your memory of an undocumented event. A story made all the more dubious by the suggestion that a delatrass would touch one of your filthy hands."

Balak's eyes blazed. He was struggling to restrain himself. "Don't you understand? They are going to die! All of them."

"And what is stopping them from finding an unsettled world of their own?"

"There are no unsettled worlds! The stronger species are already fighting over every inch of territory. How are we supposed to compete?"

"Then perhaps you should accept your place as a weaker species and move aside."

"How dare you! What if the Reapers had come through a different relay? What if they had attacked Sur'Kesh and spared us? You are only alive because of your own dumb luck. You sit there in your dress, wielding authority over billions of lives, dealing life and death like toys...one day the people here will see how useless you really are."

"Now listen to me batarian! I will not be barked at by a wild dog in my own chamber!"

"Back a wild dog into a corner salarian, and you will see that his bark is not what you should worry about."

Cassus averted his eyes and waved his hand. "I think I've heard enough. The batarian's request is denied. Let his people drift."

Balak clenched his fists and stepped forward. "I swear on my honor as a warrior that I will make you pay for this."

Cassus laughed. "You have no honor left batarian, and your days of playing warrior are over. What do you propose to threaten me with."

"I still have ships."

"Your ships are worthless. Soon to be floating tombs, full of frozen batarian corpses. My only concern is that when they do fall from the sky, they don't land on anything too important."

Cassus tapped a key on his Omni-tool.

"Matter dismissed. Who's next?"

**…**

"Oh, excuse me." said the flustered quarian as she bumped into Shepard's chest. "I wasn't looking where I was going and I..." She looked up and met his eyes. Hers seemed to glow a bit brighter. "Commander Shepard! Keelah I didn't recognize you at first. I'm so sorry. I didn't-"

"It's OK. I was distracted too. Are you alright?" Shepard asked, taking a moment to survey his new acquaintance. She wore an inexpensive environmental control suit, wrapped in a vibrant blue and gold pattern. Tali had once told him that from suit pattern alone, one could deduce the origin of any traveling quarian. The lecture involved innumerable cultural minutiae that went right over his head.

When she had collected herself she said, "Oh yes, I'm fine, but...well no actually. It's just that my daughter Tia has wandered off, and I have no idea where she could be. She's only a child and I'm worried sick. She's so curious for her age and always finding her way into trouble. She could be anywhere. I hate to ask but... Do you think you could help me find her?"

"have you tried asking Csec for help?"

"Csec couldn't care less about the troubles of Quarians. At best they would give me some paperwork to fill out and then just ignore the problem."

Shepard opened his mouth to disagree, but then realized that she might have a point.

"Alright. I can talk to them for you. Her name is Tia?"

"Tia Vi'it. Here is a picture for you." She handed it to him "I can't thank you enough Commander!"

"Thank me when we find her. Until then-"

Shepard noticed something over the quarian's shoulder that stopped him in mid sentence.

"I'm sorry, but I have to go. I'll let you know if anything comes up."

He turned around and took a few hurried steps in the opposite direction. He thought he might have gotten away, but then he heard her voice.

"Commander Shepard! Got a minute for the nightly news?"

"Not today Khalisa, I'm in kind of a rush."

She ignored the comment and kept walking, a news camera hovering over shoulder.

"Would you care to comment on recent changes here at the Citadel?"

Shepard moved a little faster.

"There is word of Csec abuse in the lower wards. Unwarranted arrests, people going missing, strange warships massing on the edge of the nebula. Some say that councilor Cassus is building an army; that he plans to bring the entire Citadel under martial law. Some even say he is working with Exogeni to engineer new kinds of soldiers... That one of his assassins can change her face at will."

Shepard kept walking. "no comment"

Well then, will you at least comment on rumors of quarian pilgrims being rounded up and shipped out, never to be heard from again. Or samples of the genophage being unthawed from cold storage. Something is happening here Commander, and you are just looking the other way. Are you planning on abandoning the people you swore to protect?"

Shepard stopped in his tracks and spun to face her.

"I am not abandoning anyone! When will you give up this tabloid garbage? I know what you're trying to do. Your usual gossip columns aren't selling, so you're switching to cheap fear tactics. There's more to journalism than stirring up rumors. Now get off my back."

For a moment she was stunned speechless. A cold stare from Shepard was enough to shut anyone up. Then she simply nodded and pressed a key on her microphone. The light on her camera flicked off and the device came to rest on her palm. Her eyes met Shepard's, and in them he detected a look of genuine fear.

"Alright Shepard, you want honesty? Honestly and off the record... I'm worried. I have been reporting here for a long time and I've never seen things like this. Everyone is so damn happy about the war being over that they're missing what's happening right in front if them. Cassus is making some sort of power play, and he doesn't care who he has to silence to make it happen. Anyone who starts digging into his business has disappeared. We need you to stand up and face him. And you're going to need help."

She pulled up a screen on her omni tool.

"I've been tracking down your old crew. Some of them were easy: General Vakarian and Admiral Zorah are stationed on Ranoch, building a house for their new daughter. The Justicar Samara is on Illium serving as protection for Councilor T'sukk. Others were harder. Zaeed Masani is working as an arms dealer on Omega under the alias 'The Combustor.' Ashley Williams is on an undercover mission somewhere in..."

"Enough!" Shepard snapped. Those people have already sacrificed more than you will ever understand. I'm not dragging them into your little conspiracy theory just to sell news. The only thing Cassus is guilty of is being an egotistical jerk. There are three councilors. There is no way that one of them could seize power on his own."

"Three? T'Sukk is missing, and Tarquin is not asking any of the hard questions."

"What hard questions? They are doing their jobs. Why don't you get back to yours?"

"I didn't expect this from you Shepard. I thought you would understand what it's like to try and warn people that don't want to listen. I know you don't respect what I do, and god knows I can't blame you. But when you stood up against the Reapers, you made me believe that one person can make a difference. I want to help. I risked my life getting some of this information, but it's all for nothing if you don't back me up. You've taken us this far, but the war isn't over yet. The galaxy needs you to finish what you started."

"you're a worse actress than you are a journalist. The Reapers are gone, there is no conspiracy, and the war is over. What this galaxy needs is fewer parasites like you!"

The outburst left a sheen of tears in her eyes. Without a word, she gave a subtle nod and turned back toward the crowd. As she stepped away, Shepard heard her say under her breath. "Well you may be done fighting, but I'm not."

...

Every rotation on the Citadel was marked by a demonstration from one of the leading merchant guilds. It served as a chance for the organizations to demonstrate their success during the trading year. This particular rotation was given to the Krogan Antiquities Guild. The exhibit was perched on a converted landing pad in the Cirulla Ward. The shuttles and docking equipment had been cleared off to make room for a stunning array of artifacts from across the galaxy. The pad was diamond shaped, with four spiral towers; one at each corner. The spires reached high above the show floor and were covered with arrays of multicolored lights. At the center of the pad was the night's most prized piece; a thirty foot tall statue hewn from a solid piece of Tuchankan red rock. It was an ancient depiction of a krogan soldier, long before the advent of gunpowder.

Tia strolled past some of the more colorful exhibits. From within her isolation helmet she made faces at the onlookers and giggled to herself. Sometimes it was fun to be a quarian.

Before long, she grew bored of the sculptures and much more interested in the illuminated towers. she walked up to one of them and craned her neck upward. The sight made her head swim. She placed a hand on the surface and walked around to the back side, away from the crowd. There she found a maintenance ladder that led all the way to the top. Being six years old, and born with a congenital lack of fear, Tia started climbing up.

She moved quickly up the rungs, taking them in twos and threes. Her little quarian feet tapping rhythmically against the steel. In a matter of minutes she reached the last rung and hoisted her body up onto the platform. Tia dusted off the front of her suit and stared out over the display. From up here the giant statue looked no bigger than an ordinary Krogan. She stepped to the edge to get a better view.

"I'd be careful if I were you." came a voice from the darkness beside her. "That's a sixty foot drop onto a very solid surface."

Tia looked toward the source. There, sitting on the platform edge, with her feet dangling over the side, was a human female in a green dress. She looked up and smiled. Tia was surprised, but far from scared. She stepped back from the edge and nodded.

"Aren't you a little young to be climbing all the way up here?"

"No." Replied the quarian defiantly, "I can climb anything"

Kasumi smiled and looked down at the crowd.

"well I do like your enthusiasm, and I have to admit that I was sleeping on rooftops by the time I was your age."

"Are you a good climber?"

"You could say that. Only human alive to scale Jutai tower freehand."

Tia tilted her head, not completely understanding the implication. Kasumi pulled up her feet and stood.

"You know you actually show some talent. I saw you making your way up here. You've got speed, power, coordination... your technique just needs a little refinement."

"I didn't know you were watching me."

"Most people don't"

"so what's wrong with my technique?"

"First of all, you're pulling with your arms. Real power comes from your legs. Use your arms only to fine tune your jumps. If your fingers hurt the next day, you're doing it wrong."

Kasumi took a step closer.

"Also, you were planting with the soles of your feet. If you stay on your toes, you get a lot more power from your calves. It's harder to balance at first, and you'll definitely get some bruises on your knees, but eventually you'll be faster and much more silent. It makes all the difference when you've got a gunship on your butt."

"why would you have a gunship on your butt?"

Kasumi leaned forward on the railing

"No reason."

Tia leaned next to her.

"So what are you doing up here anyway? Are you hiding from something?"

Kasumi pushed off and sat back down on the floor.

"That's kind of a loaded question. Let's just say that I'm not very comfortable in a crowd. All those eyes on me at once... I thought I could handle it, but now I'm not so sure."

"Are you scared?"

"It took me a while to admit it to myself, but I just might be."

For a moment they both stared downward in silence. The exhibit was reaching its climax. The lights from all four towers converged on the center of the pad, and a hidden chamber underneath released a shower of luminescent nanoparticles. They swirled around the space and up along the towers. Kasumi reached out a hand and swirled them with her fingertips. Tia reached out and mimicked the move.

"So what does a little quarian girl do on the Citadel for fun?"

"Lots of things. Chasing duct rats, watching the cruisers fly past, or sometimes just playing with my friends." She looked up at Kasumi. "Want to play a game?"

"What did you have in mind?"

"How about hide and seek?"

Kasumi smiled. "I'm afraid I'm quite tired of that one. What else do you have?"


	26. Old Friend

**Archived recording of Cerberus conference dated 2184 **

**...**

_QEC activation sequence commencing._  
><em>Signal detected...processing...confirmed<em>  
><em>Begin visual decoding<em>  
><em>Begin audio synch<em>

IM: Do you have a minute?

ML: Always. What can I do for you?

IM: I was looking over your most recent updates to the Lazarus data. The results are impressive. I have to admit that I had my doubts.

ML: Happy to prove you wrong. Myocardial reconstruction is nearing eighty percent. Cortical synapses are firing on their own. Yesterday one of the techs saw him make a fist. Between our technology and Shepard's willpower, this might actually work.

IM: It would be a triumph for all of humanity. Are there any other developments I should know about?

ML: Actually, yes. I think I've found another candidate for his team.

IM: Interesting. Who do you have in mind?"

ML: Well...we've already decided on the turian mercenary, the drell assassin, the salarian scientist, and the krogan warlord. At the moment, I'm looking into a Justicar stationed on Illium. She'll be a tough sell, but I think she'd be a valuable asset if we can convince her to join."

IM: [pause]

ML: Is something wrong?

IM: To be honest, I am a little concerned. Krogan, drell, turian... I would like to see more humans in the mix. So far it's just you and Taylor.

ML: Did you have someone in mind?

IM: Why not this one...Ashley Williams?

ML: I'm afraid she's out of the question.

IM: I don't see why. Her dossier is more than impressive.

ML: True, but she's too much of an idealist.

IM: And Shepard isn't?"

ML: That's different. Shepard follows his conscience. He always tries to do the right thing. She's something else entirely. She lives by a sort of blind loyalty that will contradict the aims of our mission.

IM: I'm not sure I understand.

ML: Two weeks ago I went to see her on Horizon. I managed to convince her that I was a weapons dealer from Sirta, interested in supplying the colony with heavy arms. When I asked her name, she said 'I'm an Operation Chief for the System Alliance.' When I asked about her leisure interests, she said 'I'm an Operation Chief for the System Alliance.' When I asked about her personal life, she said 'I'm an Operation Chief for the System Alliance.' When I admitted that I was putting a team together for Cerberus, she spit on the floor and walked out of the room.

IM: I see.

ML: I'm not saying she would be a weak link. She's as dangerous as a rabid varren, with about half as much class. I just don't think she's right for us.

IM: That's disappointing. Is there no one else?

ML: [sigh] I was hoping it wouldn't come to this, but if you really want to see a human on the team, I may have another option. [Cue Omnitool Interface Display] Let me tell you about the latest addition to the prison ship Purgatory.

...

**Chapter 6: Old Friend**

"This is the Shadow Broker."

The hiss of the voice scrambler evoked a pang of nostalgia in Liara T'Soni. She had not reached out to her old contacts since the end of the war. The day that Harbinger fell, she had sent a final transmission over the Broker's extranet channel, declaring all operations suspended, and all agents relieved of duty. It had been a bittersweet moment. On one hand it provided closure to a very dark chapter in her life. On the other, it took away the most fulfilling job she had ever known. For months she had served as the most powerful information dealer in the galaxy. From the highest government offices to the darkest corners of the criminal underground, nothing had been hidden from her view. No one had been beyond her reach. There was no substitute for that level of control.

Acting as the broker had taken a toll on her though. Despite the satisfaction, she was never able to shed the feeling that she was doing something wrong. She wanted to believe, as Shepard did, that governments had the potential to operate openly and without corruption. That the galaxy would one day unite without the need for espionage. Continuing to work in that shadowy world seemed to betray all that he and the Normandy stood for. That was why she had suspended the alias.

Now, pacing across the floor of one of her old safe houses, surveying the reports of her agents, Liara wasn't so sure. While leaving Almarcrux, Joker had captured an image of the assassin's ship. Shepard had suggested scouring the extranet for matches, but Liara, being a veteran in the information trade, knew how useless that would be. Searching the extranet was for black market rookies and kids researching school projects. Liara's eyes had not mistaken her in the ExoGeni lab. She had seen what would have brought any asari to her knees in fear; a living breathing noctiri shaman. Catching this particular killer would mean utilizing deeper sources. If that meant diving back into the shadows, then so be it.

_"Greetings broker. I have eyes scattered throughout the Skyllian verge, but none of them has seen the symbol on that ship. It is not associated with any known criminal or pirate organizations. I do not-"_

Liara wiped the channel and moved onto the next source.

_"Broker, the symbol is unknown to me, but definitely shows elements of salarian calligraphy. The text is mixed with something that I've never seen before. Something much older."_

Another channel wipe...and another. It was over an hour of useless speculation and chatter before one of Liara's informants in the Omega system got her attention.

_"I think I've found something for you Broker. Fourteen hours ago, a shuttle matching your target was found scuttled near the asteroid field by Omega station. The craft was blown to bits, but not before launching a single escape module. It seems that the pilot sabotaged the fuel cells and abandoned ship before it detonated. I suspect he or she continued onward to one of Omega's undocumented entry bays and found a way into the lower wards."_

Liara shook her head. This was starting to sound like a dead end. The witch had covered her tracks well. Finding people on Omega was a difficult business, even for the Broker.

"I take it the trail has run cold?" Liara's voice was transformed into a throaty rasp by the scrambler._  
><em>

_"It did at first, but then I did a little digging through the master departure log. Since your target arrived there, eighty-seven ships have left Omega ports. I can account for the owners and cargo of eighty-six. The remaining one is something of a mystery. Its rightful owner and copilot were found dead in Afterlife bar. Their cargo was left behind."_

Liara lifted her head.

"How were they killed?"

_"That's a bit strange as well. Apparently they were dosed with an unidentifiable poison. Puncture wounds were found on their necks."_

Liara's eyes widened.

"The ship leaving Omega...where was it headed?"

_"To the citadel. My sources tell me it docked no more than twenty minutes ago. If you would-"_

Liara wiped the channel and shut down the terminal. She sat for a moment, contemplating the implication. Slowly she stood and walked over to the window. Below she could see throngs of happy shoppers and tourists, making their way through the presidium floor. She looked at her hands and realized they were shaking. Two words echoed in her head.

'She's here.'

**…**

"Palaven?"

"Yep."

"Sur'kesh?"

"M'hmm"

"Tuchanka?"

"There too."

"How about Ranoch?"

"Even Ranoch."

Tia stopped in her tracks.

"You've been to the homeworld!?"

Kasumi nodded. The little quarian, fueled by pure excitement, grabbed onto the hem of her dress and shook it.

"What was it like?"

Kasumi smiled. "Lovely...once the giant Reaper stopped shooting at us."

"I don't believe it! What about Earth? Have you seen Earth?"

"Of course. I was born there."

"Is it true that there are oceans filled with clean blue water, and beaches made of soft white sand?"

"It is indeed. Though you need a good deal of money to live by them." Kasumi looked down at the enthralled youth. "Personally, I would recommend knocking over the estate of an evil billionaire. I've been living pretty well off the Donovan Hock fund."

"What does that mean?"

"Never mind. You probably shouldn't listen to me when I say things like that. I'm not the best of role models."

The two kept walking, Tia trying her best to mimic Kasumi's delicate gate.

"So which is your favorite?... planet I mean."

"That's a tough one. I generally have the most fun where the people are most interesting." Tia nodded, and Kasumi continued. "There is one place that puts all others to shame in that department."

"Is it Omega?"

"Not even close. This is a place where the wildest, strangest, and most dangerous people in the galaxy all come together. Where you're always one step away from a gruesome death, and side by side with the best friends you could ever hope to meet."

Tia, falling behind, took a few hurried steps to catch up. "Where?"

Kasumi looked up through the glass ceiling of the wards. Through it she could see innumerable ships slipping in and out of the bays. At the edge of the vista sat the Normandy, its mighty hull reflecting the camera flashes of a gathered crowd. Stories of Commander Shepard and his stealth ship were told in homes throughout the galaxy. Even though the SR3 had yet to see real combat, it was already a living, breathing legend.

Kasumi pointed. Tia craned her helmet upward to see.

"Commander Shepard's ship? You've been aboard the Normandy!?"

"More than once. It was my home for a while. You see that window on the Starboard side?". Tia nodded. "That was my room. I used to stay up late and watch bits of passing space debris vaporize in the blue shift field." Kasumi started walking again. "Sometimes I would fire up my cloak and go from deck to deck, looking for a fight or a juicy piece of gossip. I got to see things that most people have only read about: a justicar glowing in deep meditation, the true founder of the blue suns sparring with a krogan warlord, the galaxy's deadliest biotic throwing furniture at a Cerberus commander. It was a strange time in my life, and part of me will always miss it."

"Will you ever live there again?"

Kasumi looked up at Normandy, just as a Turian destroyer was leaving port. The enormous engines cast a white light across the scene, illuminating details in the Normandy's diamond coated Silaris armor. The sight was fleeting but breathtaking. A murmur of awe passed through the crowd. Kasumi felt her chest rise with an involuntary breath.

"I don't know why I ever left."

**…**

"I think you were too hard on the batarian. We should reconsider aiding their fleet."

Councilor Cassus opened a compartment in his desk and withdrew two objects: a slim, crystal glass and a bottle of blood-red Amisi liquor. Delicately, he set them on the surface. Without paying attention to a word that Tarquin was saying, he removed the cap. The smell of ripened fruit met his nose.

"They are civilians after all. I know that the batarians have a violent history, but I'm not prepared to stand by while women and children freeze to death in those ships."

Cassus angled the bottle until a crimson stream poured into his glass. Because the liquor was chilled, it settled like syrup. When the salarian lifted the cup in his hand, the warmth melted it, imparting a watery consistency. He rolled the glass back and forth, watching it stain the sides and collect into the decorative grooves and pits.

"I've thought about it, and I believe I have found a solution. If the Delatrass will not aid the batarians, the Hierarchy might be able to help. Two moons in the Apien Crest have been used by the turians for centuries to house soldiers in training. The Hierarchy would consider leasing them to the batarians for free, as long as they agree to maintain the facilities. They are crude, but would provide the necessary food and shelter. The local military would be a bit soft as a result, but in these times of rebuilding, we all need to make sacrifices."

Cassus brought the cup to his lips and tilted the stem upwards. The liquor burned as it rolled over his tongue. Most salarians did not care for hard liquor. The alcohol was harsh and dried out their delicate membranes. Cassus, however, reveled in the sensation; drew satisfaction from the pain. He closed his eyes and focused on the intensity of the burning in his mouth.

"The fact is that we Councilors are here to represent not just the members of our own species, but all citizens of the galaxy. It is our job to protect them."

Something in that last sentence shook Cassus from his reverie. His large, black eyes opened slowly, fixing on Tarquin. The turian found himself silenced by the stare.

"Protect them? _Our _job to protect _them_?"

This was followed by a moment of silent contemplation. Then he continued.

"Many years ago, our two races, along with the asari, came to this station to form the greatest government the galaxy had ever known. We took a mass of discordant peoples, squabbling over their little corners of space, and we brought them together. We gave them prosperity, security, and the rule of law. Civilization as we know it was built on those first treaties."

Cassus stared deeply into his cup.

"It was that sacred alliance that lit up the relays, built the great fleets, routed the rachni, neutered the krogan, and ultimately beat the Reapers into dust. When I took my oath as a galactic councilor, those accomplishments drove me forward; gave me inspiration..." He took another sip and swallowed it. "...and now, after all that work, everything we have stands on the brink of annihilation."

Tarquin waved off the suggestion. "What are you talking about? Our government has never been stronger. We have achieved a state of peace our ancestors dared not dream of."

"I like you Tarquin. I always have. But your shortsightedness sometimes staggers me."

He set down the cup and activated his desk terminal. A galaxy map appeared on the surface, swirling with fleet movements.

"Have you not read the reports from Tuchanka? From Rannoch? In less than a year the krogan population has doubled. Without a war to fight, they have turned to construction at an unprecedented pace. Tuchanka burns bright with the fires of industry. They are rebuilding their cities."

"And why shouldn't they."

"With cities come spaceports. With spaceports come ships. It's been a long time since the last krogan fleet. My father used to tell me stories about it. Ships so large their gravitational fields warped the path of incoming missiles. Weapons so powerful that they could boil lakes in a single shot. Sure the krogan are happy now, but how long before they outgrow their homeworld? How long before they attempt expansion, as they did once before?"

Tarquin said nothing in reply.

"And what about Rannoch? I'm sure you've heard that the quarian Applied Science Guild has allied with the geth consensus. Every day their labs make discoveries that are lightyears beyond anything we have on Sur'kesh. There is no intelligence in the galaxy that could hope to match a united Rannoch. Thankfully they have limited their research to nonmilitary pursuits, like immunomodulation and biofusion cells. But how long will that last? How long before the quarians dream up a fleet that makes our ships look like rusting antiques? If that does not frighten you Tarquin, then you are not doing your job."

Cassus closed the map and picked up his glass. Another sip left a drop of crimson at the corner of his mouth.

"The sad fact is that the salarians are no longer the most intelligent race... the turians are no longer the mightiest. It is tempting to cheer the accomplishments of our allies, but if history has taught us nothing else, it's that peace is a momentary phenomenon. All peoples grow and expand until their borders come into contact with those of others. No matter how peaceful we're all willing to be, another war will come, and at this rate our fleets will be swept aside like toys. You must have seen this coming old friend. You know war far better than I do. Tell me I'm wrong."

Tarquin said nothing.

"The time for talk is over. Now we must find the strength to act. To ensure our place as the rightful owners of the Citadel, before these upstarts can supplant us."

"And what would you do Cassus? Start a new war? You are a councilor. You command no armies, and you don't speak for the salarians. Even if you did, I would not support it. We cannot predict what the future will bring. Stabbing allies in the back cannot be the true path."

"Burying your head in the sand does not make you virtuous. Your people came to mine once for a solution to the krogan menace. The turians saw the danger in leaving their expansion unchecked."

"The genophage was a mistake."

"That is the popular outlook these days, but can you begin to imagine how many lives that virus saved? Would you have preferred that we sat by and watched the krogan turn the galaxy into their breeding ground? They would have gone from world to world, decimating populations by the millions to make room for their young, turning towering cities into piles of rubble. When the Reapers arrived they would have found a chaotic mess and picked it to pieces.."

Tarquin shook his head.

"It was a hard choice at the time, but you know the genophage was the right decision..." Cassus stepped forward and placed a hand on Tarquin's shoulder. "...just as you know we need a similar solution now."

"And what is the solution? What exactly are you planning?"

Cassus grinned and stepped over to the window. Light from the serpent nebula played across his face.

"That's the best part. The stage has already been set. The heavy lifting has already been done. Hatred between these races has been brewing for centuries. It's like a big drum of rocket fuel. All we have to do is flick one, tiny ember into the mix..."

He turned from the window with a devilish look in his eye.

"And then we watch it burn."

"That doesn't answer my question. Right now you are only a glorified diplomat. You have connections, but not enough to start a war. Sooner or later you will need resources; a force of your own to command."

"That's where Exogeni comes in. The CEO has a great interest in maintaining the political landscape the way it is now. In exchange for my support on the council, he has made a valuable contribution to my cause. He has handed me the reigns to a powerful new weapon. An entire species, lost to the pages of history, is being brought to life as we speak."

Tarquin's mandibles drooped.

"So the rumors are true. You're resurrecting the noctiri. But how?"

"Let's just say that they were never truly gone. One particularly crafty specimen managed to conceal herself in a prothean cryo-storage chamber at the close of the last cycle. She slaughtered the protheans standing guard and activated the device herself. For over 50,000 years she has slept with only dreams of vengeance to keep her warm. Exogeni discovered her at the onset of the Reaper war and has been using samples of her DNA to fill sequence gaps in the fossil record. A few days ago the first live noctiri young were born in the Exogeni lab here at the Citadel. You should see them Tarquin. They are a bit unruly, but their raw power would make a krogan tremble. They will serve as keepers of the peace in our new Citadel defense force.

"Cassus this is madness. You claim that you want to return to the days of the original council, but there is no way the asari will agree to this. Exterminating the noctiri will be their primary concern, and then they will come for your head. You must stop this experiment before it gets out of control. Kill that monstrous creature; send it back to the pages of history where it belongs."

Cassus winced at that last sentence and said, "choose your words carefully old friend. You wouldn't want to upset our guest."

Tarquin furrowed his brow and turned around. Behind him, standing in the open door of Cassus's office, were two individuals. One was a krogan, massive in stature, and marked with a scar on his left cheek. He wore heavy battle armor emblazoned with the red and white Exogeni logo. He met Tarquin's eye and readjusted his gauntlet straps, as if to offer a fight.

The other was a diminutive figure, draped in a black cloak that fell from her shoulders to the floor. Her face was hidden in the shadow of a low hanging hood. Her slender arms, held behind her back, were wrapped in grey cloth. She made no sound; moved no muscle. When Tarquin looked into the darkness where her face should be, he felt the blood go cold in his veins.

"So what will it be Tarquin? Will you join us? Will you help to usher in a new order of galactic prosperity, or will you sit by and watch our great republic crumble under a wave of synthetics and suit rats?

Tarquin turned to face his aging colleague.

"You already know my answer Cassus. Mock me all you want, but to a turian, loyalty amounts to more than short term strategy. Two years ago I watched the krogan, quarians, and geth stand and fight beside us. I will not forget what they sacrificed to save us."

Cassus shook his head and sighed. "I'm sorry to hear that." He returned to his desk and sat. "Now you know what I have to do."

Tarquin straightened his posture. "Do your worst..._old friend_."

Cassus nodded to the krogan, who smiled and spread his arms in a menacing gesture. Tarquin, a veteran of hand to hand combat, backed into a fighting pose. The creature in black remained motionless. Cassus took the last sip from his glass and said, "kill him."

With a growl the krogan leapt forward, covering the distance in two great strides. Tarquin dodged the lunge and brought a knee into his attacker's stomach. The blow only enraged the krogan, who sent a backhanded swing in Tarquin's direction. Tarquin dodged again and again. With each dodge he landed a stiff counterattack, but his blows were not making a dent in the hulking figure. As he rained down punches and kicks, he became more and more conscious that he would need a weapon soon. Gasping for breath, he backed toward the window. He stepped closer and closer, until he felt the glass press up against his back. The presidium floor was over a hundred feet down on the other side.

The krogan allowed a chuckle at the sight of his prey, pinned against the window. Tarquin chuckled right back.

"Come on whelp! Is that the best you've got. I've been killing krogan since before you were born."

Sabrak roared in reply and readied another charge. The office shook with his heavy footfalls. This time he lunged with both arms, in an attempt to shove Tarquin through the pane. But the turian was too quick. With lightning reflexes, he latched onto Sabrak's wrist and redirected it toward the window. There was a crash as the glass split down the middle. One large piece fell outward. The rest shattered into pieces. Standing before the opening, high above the crowd below, Tarquin reached down and picked up a shard, wielding it like a knife. He vaulted the krogan's shoulder and landed on his back. With both hands he raised the piece high and plunged it down toward Sabrak's neck.

The edge was inches away from its target when a shot rang out through the room. There was a momentary pause in the action, then Tarquin let the shard slip from his fingers. He looked up to see Cassus aiming a pistol at his chest. A blue liquid began to soak through his shirt.

"I think that's enough Tarquin. You've managed to go out fighting, which for some reason seems important to you. Now it's time to lay down and die."

Tarquin coughed up a spurt and tried to smile.

"That's what you never understood Cassus. That's why you are who you are. And that's why you're going to fail. The people you're up against are not going to lie down and die. They will fight you until the end, and spit at you with their last breath."

"Well looking at what's happened to you they might want to reconsider their strategy."

Cassus holstered his weapon and motioned to Sabrak. The krogan grabbed Tarquin by the neck and lifted him off the floor. As powerful hands closed around his airway, he heard Cassus speaking to the creature in black.

"Our plan is now in motion. It's time for us to leave this place."

She responded in a soft, surprisingly gentle voice. "What about Shepard? He intrigues me. I would like to stay and finish what I started."

"I'm afraid I have bigger plans for you." He planted a kiss on her hand. "And don't worry about the good commander. I've already worked out a role for him in my grand design. When he walks through that door, he will have the welcome he deserves."

**...**

Work hours were coming to a close, and the embassy hallways were mostly quiet. Somewhere in the distance, two volus merchants were arguing about the merits of a new tax code. Their labored breathing provided a sort of rhythmic ambiance. The only other sound was the scurry of keepers, moving from panel to panel, maintaining the arcane workings of the Citadel.

Shepard jogged the last few steps, past the Spectre HQ, and up to the door of Cassus's office. At the last minute the salarian had cancelled the official hearing and insisted upon a more private discussion. It made no difference to Shepard, who was just anxious to put the whole meeting behind him. He reached out toward the door.

"Commander Shepard."

Shepard stopped in his tracks. It was a voice he hadn't heard in a long time. He turned around to face the source.

"I wouldn't go in there if I were you."

* * *

><p><strong>Next: Happy Hunting<br>**


	27. Happy Hunting

"Listen Shepard, when I decide to let another person seen my face, it's for one of two reasons. Either I'm about to trust them..."

"Or?"

"Let's just leave it at 'or.'"

…

**Chapter 7: Happy Hunting**

* * *

><p>C-Sec agent Dax Kendrick hoisted his rifle and propped the stock against his shoulder. The massive weapon seemed excessive, but had been made standard issue under Councilor Cassus's heightened security protocol. With the push of a button, a round slid into the chamber. A click-beep signaled that the gun was armed. Kendrick stared past the sights and into the face of the quarian cowering before him.<p>

"Please, don't shoot. I'm just looking for my daughter."

Kendrick raised an eyebrow. "Up here on the trading floor? You're daughter happen to be an eezo merchant?"

"No, she…she's just a little girl. She ran away this morning and I can't find her anywhere. I thought she might have come up here to see the displays."

"Does this look like a tourist attraction to you? I've already had five complaints about your kind today. This is a place of business, and it's a lot harder to get that business done with suit rats crawling all over the place."

"I'm sorry that you're upset, but this is a public area. I have a right to be here."

Kendrick laughed. "Well, since you're so acquainted with the law, you'll know that under Council security protocol 716, I have the right to arrest you for suspicious activity. I'll bet a few days in C-Sec lockup will give you plenty of time to think about your rights."

The quarian just stared blankly, not sure how to respond.

"Or better yet, I could send you to bay 15. Councilor Cassus is always looking for quarian 'volunteers' for his special project. I think you would fit in well. If you'd kindly follow me, we can head over there right now."

"Please I—"

"Shut up and start walking."

"I… I don't understand what I've done wrong"

Kenderick took a step forward and jabbed the muzzle into her chest.

"I said move!"

"I cannot go anywhere until I find my—"

She was silenced by a blow to her abdomen. Gasping for air, she fell to her hands and knees. Her faceplate hit the deck with a clang.

"Listen suit rat, that's the last time you get the butt of this rifle. Another word and you get a bullet."

A crowd of onlookers was beginning to gather, curious as to what offense the quarian might have perpetrated. Some of them lit up the video recorders on their Omni-tools. Kendrick took note and nodded to his partner, Agent Brikk. Brikk swung his shotgun in a wide arc and ordered them to disperse. Reluctantly they complied, backing off into the maze of Citadel hallways. When the area was clear, the two agents turned back to the quarian.

"Now get up."

The female, still reeling from the blow, was too winded to speak.

"Hey Dax, I think she needs a little fresh air." Said Brikk with a chuckle.

"Not a bad idea." He said, lowering the barrel to within an inch of her face. "Lose the helmet."

She raised her head. Her eyes sending a wordless plea through the translucent faceplate.

"You can't ask me to… I will not survive."

The Citadel was a gathering place for hundreds of diverse species, and consequently colonized by an immeasurable catalog of microbes brought from across the galaxy. It was common even for immuno-competent species to experience flu like symptoms on their first visit. To a quarian, such exposure would be fatal.

"I can't imagine you'll do much better with a shot to the head." Kendrick pressed the muzzle to her temple. "Let's get a look at that pretty face."

The quarian looked down at her trembling hands. With a great deal of effort, she lifted one of them off the ground and brought it to her chin. She felt the release mechanism beneath her glove and paused to take a few deep breaths. As soon as she activated it, her faceplate would fall away. Immediately she would be exposed to a miasma of infectious organisms. In a single breath they would fill her respiratory tract, and begin a colonization that would lead to her eventual death. She might have days or hours, depending on the local species. At least she would buy herself some time to find Tia; to make sure that her daughter was safe.

"Are you seriously going to take all day?" Kendrick laughed. "Hey Brikk, You ever see anyone move this slow?"

But there was only silence in reply. Brikk did not respond.

Kendrick turned to where the agent had been standing only moments ago. There was no one there.

"Brikk?" Kendrick called again, raising his rifle and sweeping the area. "Quit playing around man. Where the hell are you?"

The alley was quiet. There was no one around: no merchants, no onlookers, just the officer and his prisoner. Kendrick turned back to face her.

"What is this? Where did he go?"

The quarian looked as confused as he did.

"I don't know. He was standing right next to you. He might have…" She trailed off.

"He might have what?"

She didn't reply. Kendrick watched as her face tilted toward the ceiling. Something had caught her attention. He followed her gaze upwards. Then he saw it too.

"What in god's…?"

There, unconscious and hanging by a length of wire tied around his ankle, was agent Brikk. His body was suspended right behind Kendrick, his head about seven feet from the ground. His nose was broken, and there was a piece of paper stuck to his forehead. Kendrick reached up and picked it off.

* * *

><p>Happy to see that C-Sec is springing for bigger guns. Though they won't do you much good unless you can see your target. Happy hunting.<p>

- The Ghost of the Citadel

* * *

><p>When he looked up from the paper, the quarian was gone. He was standing all alone. With a grunt of frustration he crumpled the note and tossed it on the ground. He raised his rifle and spun in a 360 degree arc, desperate for a target.<p>

"Enough games. Show yourself." He screamed at no one in particular.

"Enough games?" Came a reply that echoed throughout the space. "Well you're no fun at all, are you?"

It sounded like a human female. Kendrick tried to pinpoint the source, but failed. He spun again in search of a target. This time he stumbled over his own boots and struggled to regain his balance. A second, much younger female, giggled from somewhere nearby. Again the sound was too diffuse to locate. Kendrick's rage was boiling over.

"Come out and fight fair damn it!"

"Based on your definition of a fair fight, that would mean kneeling on the floor with a gun to my head. I think I'll pass."

"Come out and fight or I swear I will march into the refugee zone and shoot every quarian I find there." He looked up at the ceiling and down at the vents. "Women and children, I don't give a damn. When I'm out of ammo, I'll have my men pile them into airlocks and shoot them out into space."

"Spoken like a true hero." Came the voice again. "Future generations will sing songs of your bravery."

This time the sound was clearer and closer. He raised his rifle.

"You think I'm bluffing?"

"No. I don't think you're bluffing. I think you're stupid...and ugly...and generally pathetic, but not bluffing.

"I am a C-Sec officer, damn it. You can't talk to me that way—"

"If I were you, I'd want to keep me talking for as long as possible. You're not going to like what happens when this conversation is over."

"This is not a conversation. This is _me_ arresting _you_." He spun around again. Still no one in sight. "I hope, for your sake, that you really are a ghost, because when I get my hands on you-"

There was a tap on his shoulder. When he turned, he found himself looking into a pair of jet black eyes only inches from his own. They shimmered with an almost supernatural glow.

"Boo!"

Then everything went dark.

* * *

><p>Next: <strong>Raining blood on Tuchanka<strong>


	28. Raining Blood on Tuchanka

"You think you are constructed differently than we are, but that is false. This body is simply a mobile platform for the thousands of geth programs that exist within it. You look at our platform and consider us to be an individual, a single person that you call Legion. But that is inaccurate. What you should consider is a group of us, a consensus working to drive this platform as we see fit. We make each decision based on what would benefit the most of us at a given time. Organics are constructed similarly. You are not an individual, but a collection of cells, some more complex than others. Some construct elaborate nests of structural protein, others fire bolts of electricity to communicate with one another, others crawl along membranes hunting pathogens. Each of those cells acts with a singular purpose. It acts in the manner that would benefit itself and the whole. Everything your body does is the result of billions of tiny acts being carried out at the same time. Each act that we carry out is not the decision of a single being, but a consensus. The only difference is that you fail to see it, while we cannot ignore it."

-Conversation between Shepard and Legion shortly before the assault on the Collector base

...

**Chapter 8: Raining blood on Tuchanka**

* * *

><p>The presidium was mostly dark. The artificial sun had set. The sky filled with stars of exaggerated size and color, interspersed between ads for the newest Blasto movie. Leaning against the wall of embassy row, her polished armor caught the glow from an Alliance recruiting poster, casting illuminated ribbons from her shoulders to her wrists. She kept her hands tucked behind the small of her back.<p>

"Hello commander."

The tone was strong, but laced with something like embarrassment. She held eye contact for only a second, then looked down at the floor by his feet.

Shepard raised an eyebrow. "Commander? I haven't been your commander for some time now."

She nodded, weighing the significance of his words. Eventually she smiled and said, "Old habits..."

He smiled back. "Yeah."

After a nod of his own he added, "I'd ask how long it's been, but I remember the moment like it was yesterday. Earth during the war. A camp full of Alliance troops getting ready to throw it all away for one last charge...and you, sitting on a pile of ammo crates, picking charred Reaper skin off the butt of your rifle...probably the only person in that camp who really wasn't afraid to die."

"Ahh, the good old days."

"I can only imagine what you've been up to since then. I would have reached out, but I knew better than to bother a Spectre on active duty. Some part of me expected to hear from you sooner or later.

"I guess keeping in touch was never my strong suit." A few uneasy steps brought her into brighter light.

"I guess not."

Stepping to within a few feet, the LEDs on his chestplate reflected as blue pinpoints in her eyes.

"And yet..." She cocked her head to one side. "...here I am."

"And here you are."

"It's good to see you Shepard."

"You too Ash."

…

The entourage of soldiers and dignitaries bowed low as Cassus strolled into the docking bay and up the ramp to his private shuttle. The noctiri female walked on his right side, the tail of her cloak gliding on the floor behind her. She had a delicate stature; thin arms and legs that seemed to contradict the the ease of her movement. It was as if she was not using her own muscles at all, but rather submitting to some invisible force that swept her forward.

Many in the assembled group leaned forward to get a look at the councilor's mysterious companion. In the past few hours alone, rumors had begun to spread through his inner circles. Was she an asari matriarch, exiled from the Great Order for treason against Thessia? Perhaps a quarian admiral, who had suffered disfiguring wounds at the hands of a geth assassin. Some even said she was a human from an extraordinarily wealthy family on Earth. That she was cheated out of her birthright, and that she had sold Alliance secrets to the salarians in exchange for Cassus's favor. As she glided past the throngs of onlookers, her face was veiled by a hood that seemed to drain light from the room. Those who dared stare into it were left with only chills to answer their questions.

Sabrak, walking a few feet behind, stared at her with a different emotion pounding around in his skull. He felt neither fear nor curiosity...only hatred. He fantasised about charging up to her, wrapping his fingers around her neck, and crushing it with a squeeze of his massive hand. Of course he knew that it was not her fault. Since he had known about her, she had performed perfectly. That's what was so maddening. The anger he felt was nothing but pure jealousy.

Every time he closed his eyes his temples pounded with rage. Over and over he relived his battle with the Turian councilor. He should have squashed the old fool like a bug, and yet somehow he had lost. Lost in a fistfight with a turian. He had allowed Tarquin to outsmart him, and as a result, Cassus was left to fix things again. The shame of it made Sabrak want to punch through a wall. That smug salarian bastard had saved his life. No wonder he favored his noctiri pet. She had yet to let him down. She had succeeded in killing Praxalla Naveet after Sabrak and his private army had failed. She had bested Kasumi Goto and delivered the stolen data drive. She had even handed Cassus the genetic keys to resurrecting an entire race of monsters. All of this, and her most important role was yet to come.

In his fit of internal self flagellation Sabrak walked straight into one of the council bodyguards standing at the bottom of the ramp, a turian with an orange holographic visor. Sabrak growled low in his throat, but the sentinel stood his ground.

Cassus, seemingly anticipating the confrontation turned and spoke from the shuttle entrance.

"Just where do you think you're going."

The question caught Sabrak by surprise.

"I'm..."

"Coming with us?" Cassus cast a glance at his shadowy companion and shook his head. "I'm afraid not. You will stay on the Citadel until your work here is finished."

Sabrak stared blankly up at him.

"Of course you wouldn't understand." Cassus rolled his eyes. "and why would you? To be honest I neither know nor care why you can't seem to follow a simple plan from start to finish, so I'll make this as easy as I can for you. Perhaps a little story might help to help illustrate my point."

Sabrak had no response.

"You grew up on Tuchanka, correct? Look at you, of course you did." Cassus rubbed the space between his eyes and continued. "Once, as a gesture of galactic goodwill during the Reaper war, my fellow council members and I went on a tour of your home planet. Naturally, the trip was a waste of my time, though there was one thing that really made an impression on me. Towards the end of the trip, I met a krogan farmer whose land had been ravaged year after year by a pack of wild varren. The poor creature had little resources to defend his property, and was quickly going of business. But what he lacked in money, he made up for with strategy. One night he walked out among his herd, the varren watching from a distance, studying his movements with their beady little eyes. The farmer went from one of his animals to the next, and one by one, he slit their throats."

Cassus drew a finger across his own neck and smiled.

"He slaughtered his own livestock. And when he had finished, he dragged their carcasses into an enormous pile and walked back inside his home. He stood in front of a window and watched. Sure enough, the varren crept in from the hills and set upon the pile. Cautiously at first, they picked and prodded at legs sticking out from the edges, but before long they were ravenous. The beasts descended on the meat; biting and clawing and rolling in the the freshly spilled organs. The more meat was ripped from the bones, the farther the smell of blood permeated into the night air, and the more varren came running. They came by the thousands, perhaps tens of thousands. The frenzy built up into a crescendo of pure, gluttonous madness...until the krogan decided the time was right, and with the press of a button, he detonated the drums of generator fuel buried at the base of the pile. The explosion rocked the valley, and for a time it literally rained blood on Tuchanka. When the smoke cleared, the farmer rounded up the tons of meat. It took him over a full day to do it. Then he carted it in loads to a processing plant, ground down the varren and livestock alike, and sold the resulting sludge as a cheap, protein-rich animal feed to other farmers. He made a small fortune, and today that krogan is one of the most influential merchants on the planet. To see that sort of opportunity...he was truly a clever one."

Sabrak's stare continued, searching for a clue to Cassus's meaning.

"Though he's not related to you I take it." The salarian shook his head once more. "The point my vapid friend, is that no matter how brilliant a trap, no matter how well conceived and set up it may be, it needs to be triggered it at just the right moment."

Sabrak stood silent.

"I'm talking about Shepard you idiot. As long as he is nipping at my heels, everything I have put in motion is vulnerable. I have already piled the bait, I have already set the trap, all you have to do is trigger it when the time is right. I have all but giftwrapped this for you, and I am warning you not to fail me again."

The krogan opened his mouth to respond, but the shuttle door slammed shut. He took a few steps back as the engines whirred to life. A yellow light filled the bay as the Cassus and his entourage departed, leaving Sabrak standing alone. The only sound was the stretching of his gauntlets as he squeezed his fists.

'I will reclaim my honor.' He vowed silently to himself. 'I will earn my place in the new order. When the righteous have fallen, they will know that it was Sabrak who brought them to their knees. Not a salarian with his words, or a witch with her tricks. But me. I will show them all.'

…

"I would have contacted you sooner Shepard. You have to know that I wanted to, but..."

"But..."

"But you said it yourself. I'm a Spectre now, and sometimes when you get in deep... well it gets difficult to come up for air."

"It's been over a year. That's a long time to hold your breath."

"I've been in some pretty deep cover."

Shepard allowed another smile, the nostalgia of his early Spectre days starting to show.

"So why now Ash? What kind of trouble are you in?"

"What is that supposed to mean. Maybe I'm just here to say hi. Did you consider that?"

"No."

"What do you mean no?"

"I mean I haven't seen your name on the undesignated Spectre list in over a year. That means your assignment is still active. And if I know you as well as I think I do, then there's no way you would stop working to say 'hi' to anyone. Not in the middle of an assignment."

She looked back at the floor.

"That only leaves one possibility. You've hit a snag, and you need my help."

When her eyes met his, they were brimming with defiance. Brimming with that good old Ashley Williams, 'don't mess with me if you don't want a broken face' kind of defiance that Shepard had grown to appreciate back on their first journey together.

He continued, "So I have to ask myself. Why is she here now?"

Ashley fired right back. "Because there might not be a later."

Shepard shook his head. "And I thought I had a flair for melodramatics."

Williams shook off the comment. "Listen Shepard. You want answers. Take a look at this."

She removed a small, silvery vial from beneath her shoulder guard and tossed it to Shepard. He took a step back and caught it with both hands. The throw had been a bit more aggressive than necessary.

Shepard pinched the tube between his thumb and forefinger and brought it up to eye level. It was a sealed BioLock container, medical grade. The type of tube used for blood draws and bacterial cultures in most major hospitals. He turned it in his hands and watched some fluid slosh up against the sides.

"What is this?" He asked.

"I took it from an underground lab in the Shadow Sea; a small system under salarian control. My sources tell me it's the only one of its kind."

Shepard swirled the fluid again. "But what is it?"

"Something that both the Blue Suns and the Eclipse Sisters were willing to kill for. I spent two months planning the retrieval of that vial, another month to realize why everyone wanted it so badly, and another to decide what to do about it."

"But what is-"

"God Shepard. What do you think it is?"

"It looks like blood."

"That's because it is blood." She stared into his eyes. "Krogan blood to be specific-"

"But-"

"To be even more specific... it's krogan blood infected with Genophage."

"Genophage? But the Genophage was-"

"Cured? I know." She shook her head. "I remember that day as well as you do. It's going to take longer than a year for me to forget watching a Reaper go toe to toe with a giant mutant worm in the middle of a sandstorm." She reached out and took the vial back.

Shepard scratched his head, trying to keep up. "I think I'm missing something here Ash. Why would anyone care about a sample of Genophage. Now that it's ineffective, you can buy it by the gallon on Sur'Kesh."

"But what if it wasn't."

Shepard opened his mouth to protest, but Ashley continued.

"What if someone had taken the original genophage virus and tried to rebuild it from the ground up...to rearrange it on a molecular level, with mutations in just the right spots. What if they found a way to bypass Mordin's cure."

Shepard stared back at the vial in her hands.

"Impossible. Mordin included safeguards in his original virus. Not even he had the kind of technology to override them."

"No. Neither do any of the salarians, or the asari, or the quarians. Mordin did include safeguards. Very effective ones. He made sure that any attempt to force a mutation would trigger automatic failure of key viral replication genes. When he created the genophage, he made sure to keep his dog on a leash." She tucked the vial away in her armor. "He did, however, speculate about one possible way someone might cut that leash." She lit up her omni tool. "Listen to this. It's a clip from an address Mordin presented to the salarian genetic engineering guild."

With the tap of a key, an orange, holographic version of Mordin Solus' face appeared and began to speak. The clip began with his answer to a question from an audience member.

_ 'Impossible...quite impossible unless...no...wouldn't work...too complex...no... too simple. Chemical manipulation would trigger failure of virus. Physical manipulation...impossible...inconceivable. Would need millions of...billions of...no too small...angstrom scale...processors would be too simple to run elementary programs. Nanomachines would not...could not coordinate unless...no-'_

Ashley paused the recording. "Sorry, he goes on like this for another hour. Let me get to the good part." She pressed another key.

_'Necessary conclusion is that machines would have to coordinate with one another to physically alter virus. Coordination without installed programming would necessitate voluntary cooperation...voluntary consensus.'_ Mordin paused for the first time in his lengthy response, then repeated the final word. _'Consensus...Hmmm...'_

At this point he fell into a thoughtful silence, one hand perched on his chin. Shepard knew the expression well. Ashley switched off her OmniTool. Her eyes met Shepard's. He shook his head.

"Isn't it obvious. Mordin's safeguards were built on the idea that someone would try to alter the Genophage through chemical means. He never anticipated that the virus would ever be physically altered...a functional virion literally shaped by hand. To do so you would need nanomachines working on an unimaginably tiny scale. But that's not the hard part. Even if the machines could be built, they would be too small to carry traditional memory banks. They would be mindless drones, buzzing around without purpose, unable to run basic programs, let alone programs complex enough to alter a virus. The only way it would work is if the machines had a will of their own, and if they could speak directly to one another. The machines would need to operate with a synthetic intelligence routed around a common _consensus_."

They spoke the next two words in unison.

"The geth."

Ashley continued. "The vial you were just holding contains modified Genophage laced with synthetic construct. The DNA backbone has been ripped out and replaced with a hand laced matrix of phospho-fibrils. It's cold hard proof that the geth are working to reform the Genophage."

Shepard dwelt on the idea for a less than a minute before waiving his hand and dismissing it.

"That doesn't make any sense. What would the geth consensus gain from an reactivated Genophage? The geth have no interest in Tuchanka or the krogan."

Ashley beamed in response. "That had me stumped for awhile too. It was only after I took the sample to a lab here at the Citadel that I found the real answer. This is where things get interesting." She tapped on the shoulder guard containing the vial. "The geth had nothing to do with this."

"You just finished telling me that they are the only ones with the technology to make it work."

"That's the whole point. This sample doesn't work. It's a cheap knockoff. Expose it to a drop of real krogan blood and the whole construct comes apart at the seams."

"So what are you telling me?"

"That a few weeks and an electron microscope are all you need to see the obvious...that it's all a big setup...smoke and mirrors. Someone went to pretty great..and pretty expensive lengths to make it look like the geth are meddling with genophage, when in reality, the geth consensus has no idea about any of this."

"With what purpose? What's the point?"

"What else? What do you think will happen if Clan Urdnot catches wind of a secret geth program to reactivate the Genophage. They will not wait as long as I did to disprove the idea. It won't take much more than a cheap knockoff and some half baked salesmanship to make the krogan see red. So to answer you question Shepard, I think someone is going to use a sample like this one to pick a fight. Someone is trying to start a war between Tuchanka and Rannoch."

Shepard had no answer this time. He knew that Williams was right. If Wrex were alive, the mere rumor of a reactivated Genophage would be enough to send him searching for his shotgun. Eve, the de facto leader of the clans, was more reasonable and would not be so quick to call for war, but unfortunately she was also a female. Until her son came of age, her power as clan leader would be tentative at best. If rumors of geth treachery began to spread, she would be in no position to stop a war.

Ashley chimed in again, interrupting his train of thought.

"So the big question is not why, but who? I have no doubt that Exogeni is responsible for the sample. They are the only ones with the resources, the technology, and the moral flexibility to pull it off. But who is really behind the curtain. Who has the political motivations to start a war. Who has the necessary connections with top ExoGeni leadership. Who has everything to gain, and nothing to lose. Who could watch both Tuchanka and Rannoch burn, and still get a good night's sleep."

Shepard looked back at the door he was about to walk through when Ashley had stopped him. The nameplate shimmered with inlaid gold.

**Councilor Lycoris Cassus**

"As I was saying, I wouldn't go in there if I were you." She drew a pistol from her hip and armed it. "At least, not without me."

Shepard drew a pistol of his own. A thermal clip locked into place. "Just like old times."

* * *

><p><strong>Next: Driver's Seat<strong>


	29. Driver's Seat

"There is a sort of ideal relationship that we describe between ships and their pilots. When an interface becomes an extension of the human body...when engines and stabilizer fins exist more as abstract concepts than as pieces of metal, when the only limiting factors are those imposed by the hardware itself...when ship and pilot become one. I guess what I'm trying to say is that the kid has something special. If I had to guess why, it's probably because he's so sick of his own rickety little body that he's decided to commit himself to controlling another. To answer your question, he's the best pilot this institution has ever produced. If he ever fails to save a boat, it's because he's decided to quit trying.

-Captain Edwin Harken, chief flight instructor at the Alliance Naval Academy**  
><strong>

**...**

**Chapter 9: Driver's Seat**

* * *

><p>"Flight Lieutenant, can I ask you something?"<p>

Joker stared out the cockpit window to the port side. A crew of Citadel engineers were working to refuel the liquid hydrogen tanks. Condensation poured off of the metal containers and spread out along the floor of the bay. A stocky, little volus clambered up on the wing to secure the intake valve. Joker winced as his boots scraped along the Normandy's brand new paint job.

"Did you hear me?"

Joker heard Hanna's question, but didn't feel like responding. When he signed on aboard the new Normandy, he had agreed to work with the new synthetic intelligence. He understood that the added complexity of the SR3 demanded it. He just didn't like talking to her.

After another minute's silence, the center console display changed. The orange and blue array of Normandy systems data disappeared; replaced by a projection of Hanna's face. The panels shifted around her eye as she looked up at him.

"Please don't do that." Joker asked. He tapped a key on the haptic interface and the display went completely dark.

Her disembodied voice replied. "I'm sorry."

Joker shook his head. "Don't be sorry, just...don't be here. The cockpit is a sort of private place for me. You can run your operations from engineering."

There was no immediate response. For a few minutes the only sound was the whirr of the O2 recycler. Then she tried again.

"I was only wondering why I do not have access to your personnel files. I have analyzed those of every other member of this ship, but yours are locked to me. My question is why?"

Joker sighed and leaned back in his chair. "I asked Shepard to lock my file. I didn't want you looking at it."

The panels shifted again. "But why?"

"It's not important why. Just let me do my job, and I'll let you do yours. I'm here to fly the Normandy, not to make friends."

Joker turned his attention to the fuel gage. He watched a progress bar rising slowly across the interface. Hanna watched his face. Eventually she asked, "did you know that the geth consensus keeps files on you?"

Joker said nothing.

"You view this as threatening. You should not. I have learned that you are an excellent pilot; that you have managed to outperform some of our best flight combat programs. Our simulators organize tactical scenarios by likelihood of success. You have managed to fly the Normandy SR-2 through scenarios with as low as 0.0003% survivability. We have not been able to replicate this."

Joker lifted the brim of his hat and leaned forward.

"That's because the geth can't fly worth a damn."

"The accuracy of that statement is questionable. Geth targeting and maneuvering algorithms have achieved a level of complexity that exceeds those of any organic species. The precision of a geth fighter is nearly perfect."

"Precise? sure. But they're also predictable as hell."

"Predictability was a problem for older programs, but we have solved that issue. Vector randomization allows for-"

"Spare me." Joker turned his chair around, as if to look for the person he was arguing with. "Randomize all you want, I could still draw the flightpath of a geth ship before it even launches. You can always count on the geth taking the most efficient route to target; steep banks and tight corners. They always target the most vulnerable ship in the enemy formation. They pick their battles and play by the numbers." He held up his hands. "It's true that they never miss a shot, but they'll also never surprise you. Learn the patterns, and you can lead a squad of geth fighters around like sheep."

There was a moment of silence. Hanna allowed her face to reappear on the console. This time Joker seemed not to notice, or not to care.

"Have you encountered the newer model X-42?" She asked.

Joker coughed up a laugh. "The baby Sidewinder? It's just a scaled down model of your short range frigate."

"It has the most advanced propulsion system of any fighter in galactic space, and kill ratios of 4.42 to one."

"Against quarian junkers maybe. Take a squadron of X-42s against an Alliance Snub Wing and see how well they hold up. The whole concept is a joke. It flies like a donkey with a jet engine tied to its butt."

Another silence.

"You enjoy flying the Normandy?"

Joker sighed and tapped a few keys, more to distract himself than anything.

"Yes."

"You would describe it as...fun?"

"Well..." He scratched his cheek. "Not really fun as much as...I don't know...It's just that I feel like I'm supposed to be here. It's like I was meant for this seat." He tapped the armrests with his palms. "Of course I have fun but...more than that...at the end of the day, this is my home. This is where I learned to fly...where I met Shepard. This is where..." He trailed off and glanced over at the haptic interface. A minute went by in silence. Without thinking he brought a hand up to the stubble on his face. His eyes looked out past the glass. Past something that wasn't there. Then caught himself and said, "Whatever. Yeah it's fun." He turned back to the progress bar. "Are we done here?"

Hanna's panels slid forward like a hood over her eye. "Yes. We are done."

"Good. Then get back to engineering and make sure the Helix cores are optimized."

Tilting her head to one side, Hanna said, "thank you for answering my questions."

With that her face disappeared in a flurry of red squares. Joker was left sitting alone. He tugged at the brim of his cap and leaned into the cushions of his seat. Through the window he could see the volus decoupling the valve. He stepped over to the edge of the wing and clambered ungracefully down to the floor, landing with a thud. After packing up his equipment, he made his way to the docking control platform, a large, circular room, cased in glass and organized around an array of terminals. The volus walked up to one of these and began typing away. He continued at a furious pace for several minutes, stopping only to turn around when a large krogan in a maintenance uniform entered the room. The volus nodded. The krogan nodded back and walked out.

**...**

The first thing Shepard noticed as he stepped into the antechamber of Cassus's office was the breeze. There was a draft coming in from somewhere. He scanned the room with his gun raised. The space was empty and dark. The walls were paneled in rich, red wood. A pair of silk tapestries fluttered against the far wall with a rhythmic tapping. A few stray documents sailed in from an adjacent room and floated to the floor.

Ashley stepped past Shepard with her gun up. She indicated that the space was clear and nodded to the next one; the diplomatic suite. He nodded back. Step by step they moved towards the open doorway, past an ornamental arch, carved with Sur'keshian imagery, and into the office on the other side.

The place was a mess. A heavy bookcase had been overturned and laid flat on the floor. The observation window had been completely blown out; a pair of curtains fluttering in the open air. Each gust of wind swept a tornado of documents across the room.

"What happened here?" Shepard asked, stepping over to the the window. Something crunched under his feet. The pane had been shattered. Pieces of broken glass littered the floor. He picked one of them up and held it to the light. It was speckled with drops of blue liquid.

Stepping closer to the edge, he looked down at the presidium floor, over a hundred feet below. Beams from a construction scaffold jutted out at intervals from the side of the building. The occasional passing car stirred the air. Something about the sight made him dizzy and he stepped back from the edge.

"Shepard!". Ashley called out from across the room. "You'd better come see this."

She was bent at the knee by Cassus's desk. When she waved him over, Shepard noticed Ashley's palm was stained blue. Shepard felt the hair perk up on the back of his neck. As he made his way around the desk, a body came into view; first the legs, then the chest, then the face of Councilor Tarquin. The aging turian was slumped against the wall, sitting in a puddle of his own blood. There was a bullet wound in the middle of his abdomen. Shepard bent down next to Ashley to take a closer look. She spoke first.

"I think he's dead."

Shepard guessed as much when he saw that the bullet wound had run dry. He put a hand on Tarquin's chin and turned it to one side. There was obvious bruising around his neck.

"Cassus?" Ashley asked.

"Or one of his goons." Shepard answered.

He rose to his feet and scanned the space once more. From the other room he could hear the tapestry batting against the wall. He was about to speak, when he heard someone else's voice. He raised his pistol and looked over at Ashley, but she shook her head.

"I think it's coming from his terminal."

He turned to the desk and saw that she was right. Cassus's terminal had come online. On the screen, he saw a human female and immediately recognized her as an anchor for a leading Citadel news agency. She was in the middle of her report.

"The details are still coming in as C-Sec sifts through the frenzy of information. While none of the facts have been directly verified by authorities, a second reliable source is now confirming what we all have feared. Tragedy has struck the heart of our galactic government. Councilor Kataris Tarquin has been murdered. Assassinated in the embassy offices here at the Presidium. We cannot speak to the nature of the attack, or speculate as to how the assassin managed to gain access to such a secure location. We can only say that this is a horrific day for the turian people, and indeed for the galaxy as a whole."

Shepard looked down at Tarquin's body, then at the window, then around the empty room. The stillness of the place became suddenly apparent. Except for the occasional breeze stirring the air, the office was silent. No sirens. No C-sec. No investigation.

"Ash."

"Yeah?"

"I think we need to go."

"Just a minute...I've just received word that...I'm not sure how this can be right, but our sources have now confirmed that the lead suspect in the attack is none other than Spectre agent and Systems Alliance officer, Commander Shepard. Shepard, shown here, has demonstrated a long history of hostility towards the Citadel council since his first days as a Spectre. While we have grown to expect heated arguments between the commander and Citadel Council members, I don't think anyone could have imagined that the hero of the Reaper wars would have resorted to this unthinkable crime. C-Sec sources reportedly spotted Shepard inside the embassy and responded in force. No word as to whether he has been captured or killed. We'll bring you the latest as this situation unfolds."

Shepard reached out and shut off the terminal. The newsroom chatter went silent. He perked up his ears and heard...something. At first it was difficult to make out over the thumping of the tapestry against the wall, but it was there, getting louder, in the hallway outside. Footsteps.

"We definitely need to go."

…

"But I want to go with _you_!"

Tia stomped her foot and squeezed her fists.

"I'm tired of the Citadel. I want to leave on the Normandy. I want to see other planets and go on adventures. You can't make me stay here."

Tia's mother leaned forward and rested her hands on the child's shoulders. "Tia my darling, you ask too much. We must be grateful to our friend for her help and not impose any further."

A small group of quarian refugees had gathered to meet their strange new ally. The crowd was small, but growing. Having been branded as beggars, suit rats, and second class citizens on the Citadel, the quarians were not used to outside help. One by one they came to see who had finally made a stand. Who was it that had refused to back down? Who had faced the C-Sec bruits without hesitation or compromise?

Kasumi, somewhat at a loss for words, bent down on one knee. She looked into the child's eyes.

"It has been my pleasure to meet you Tia Viit. I'm happy to call you my friend, and I would love to show you all those places that you want to see. But..."

Tia stepped backward into her mother's legs, anticipating the second half of the sentence.

"But your mother needs you here. Your friends need you here."

Tia shook her head. "No! They need _you_. They need someone who can protect them. One day those bullies will come back, and I won't be able to help at all. I can't protect anyone. I only know how to run away."

She held Kasumi's stare and continued. "Let me come with you. Show me how to be invisible. Teach me how to fight. I'm a quick learner. You even said I had talent. When I'm done, I promise I will leave you alone forever."

Kasumi stood up. "That's not what I want Tia. I hope to be your friend for many years. Now is just not the right time. When I am finished with this-"

"Don't say that!" Tia stomped her foot again. "It will never be the right time. Do you think you're the first spacer I've met? All kinds of people come through these wards on their way to other places. They tell me stories of oceans and mountains and ships and battle. They make me believe that there's something better out there...something worth living for. Each time they do I tell myself that this is my chance. That I am finally ready for an adventure of my own."

Tia looked down at her hands and wrung them against one another.

"Then they pat me on the head and say it was nice to meet me. They leave in their ships and I never see them again." She pushed off from her mother. "Of course they don't want me. I'm just a suit rat. What difference could I make."

Kasumi had no response. She looked around at the faces of the gathering crowd, then back at Tia. She racked her brain for something comforting to say, but knew too well what Tia was going through. Her problems could not be solved by any half baked platitude; no quip about being ready or staying safe. The girl didn't want advice. She wanted to leave. To leave her home behind and to never come back. Kasumi shook her head. This was something she could not offer the little quarian. Not without accepting a level of responsibility she herself was not ready for.

So without another word, and with the eyes of the assembled party, and two in particular, burning red hot holes into her body, Kasumi turned and walked away.

Contacts. Sources. Accomplices. But not friends.

**...**

"Damn it Ash." Shepard shouted, but she ignored him. She exited the office and stormed back toward the hallway.

"They can't do this to you Shepard. I need to explain to them that-"

"Would you shut up for a second." he grabbed her by the arm. The footsteps outside continued to approach. "I don't know _who _or _what _is about to come down that hallway, but I'm telling you they're not here to talk. Think about it. This is a high profile crime scene. Don't you think it's a little odd that there are no C-Sec officers here? No blue tape or barriers? How did the media find out before the authorities?"

Williams looked around. The footsteps were getting louder.

"This whole meeting was a setup. Cassus killed Tarquin, and now he's using his influence to stall the investigation until his people are done here."

"Done with what?"

Shepard ignored the question. He could hear voices now, just outside the Spectre office. "They must have been watching me since the Normandy landed. That's why Cassus wanted me to come back to the Citadel so badly. I was supposed to come in here alone. I was supposed to be alone with the body. This was never a meeting. It was a hit. They're coming to take me out."

"Well they didn't count on me." Ashley holstered her pistol. "They can't just kill two Spectres without evidence or provocation. They'll have to bring us before he council, and we have more than enough proof to clear you."

"Ash. Cassus is the council now. Tarquin's dead. T'Sukk is too for all we know. He doesn't need evidence anymore."

She shook her head. "No. I don't believe it." She shook her arm free of his hold and moved out into the hallway.

Shepard hissed. "Get back here Williams."

As she stepped out of the door, Ashley began speaking.

"This is Spectre Ashley Williams, SID code 34618." She lifted an ID card from her waist and held it high. "Shepard has surrendered voluntarily. All C-Sec officers are ordered to stand down and-"

Her speech was cut off by a spatter of gunfire that ripped across the floor in a trail leading up to her feet. A pair of shots slammed into her chestplate, driving her backward. Shepard leaned out of the doorway, grabbed onto her collar and pulled her back into the room. In an instant the hall was transformed into a gauntlet of flying metal, exploding glass, and burning bits of debris. Ashley collapsed onto Shepard and together they rolled further into the office. The gunfire followed them, ripping through the wall in a relentless hail above their heads. Shepard tried to guess at the number of shooters. Five? Ten? More? Ashley covered her ears and yelled "Jesus Christ." Rebounding shots tore around the room, biting chunks out of the wood paneled wall. The silk tapestries caught fire. The space lit up with an orange glow.

Shepard held Ashley to the floor in an attempt protect her. He could feel the heat of incendiary rounds zipping by. From somewhere nearby, a crystal liquor bottle took a round and shattered. One piece skimmed Shepard's face. A drop of blood fell from his cheek onto Ashley's.

"We can't stay here!". She screamed over the deafening roar. "We need to move!"

Shepard nodded. With a grunt he pulled himself to his knees. Lifting his pistol, he began squeezing off shots. Firing through the wall, he couldn't be sure whether he was hitting anything in particular, but by the time his thermal clip popped out, there was a break in the incoming fire. Taking no time to think, he pulled Ashley to her feet and pushed her toward the interior of the office. Back under the gilded arch and toward the heavy wooden desk.

The two Spectres ducked behind the desk, taking cover next to Tarquin's fallen body. They drew their weapons and took aim at the doorway. The gunfire had stopped. The burning tapestry in the next room cast erratic shadows. Smoke began to gather in a thick layer on the ceiling.

Ashley coughed and rubbed her nose with an armored glove. "What the hell was that? Cassus sent a god damn army."

Shepard nodded. "He's not taking any chances. He must really want me dead."

Ashley, thinking she saw a shadow pass by the doorway, fired off a few shots. Shepard followed suit and said, "We're not going to be able to hold them off from here. We need to keep moving."

He was only saying what they both had already realized, but the room had only one exit, and it led to a firing squad. There was no way out.

"I'm open to ideas commander."

Shepard scanned the room for something. Anything. A vent, or a maintenance shaft, or a loose ceiling panel. But there was nothing.

Another spat of machine gun fire cut in from the hallway. They both ducked and listened to the sound of metal digging into wood. A few shots slammed into the desk. It caught fire as well. They would have to look for new cover.

"This isn't going our way Shepard. Any thoughts?"

Shepard said nothing. He did in fact have one thought. There was an option. One desperate, long shot of an option. He debated suggesting it out loud, but decided against it.

Ashley emptied a thermal clip. It landed steaming by her feet. The smoke was now pouring in from the next room; along the ceiling and out the wide open window. The fire was spreading quickly. Ashley dropped her pistol and retrieved a shotgun from a panel on her back. She nodded at Shepard, as if to suggest that they should charge the door. Take the fight to the enemy. He considered the option. Who knew, Ashley was deadly in a firefight, and with the smoke obscuring the enemy view, they might just make it.

He might have gone ahead with the plan, but at that moment, he heard the sound of a heavy impact on the far side of the desk.

[Plunk]

Then another...then another.

[Plunk] … [Plunk]

Shepard thought for a moment, then peeked around the corner to see three spherical objects sitting on the ground less than a meter away. They were polished steel, each with a blinking red light.

"Shepard? What's-"

Ashley never finished her sentence. Shepard grabbed her, once more, by the collar and pulled her out from behind the desk.

"Oh Sh-"

"Move!"

Shepard knew that his one desperate option was now the only chance for survival. In a single fluid motion, they vaulted the objects, sprinted across the room, and together, they jumped through the open window.

The fresh air whipped past his face and fluttered in his ears. His arms reached out into the passing void, desperate for a handhold that wasn't there. From somewhere behind him, Shepard heard a deafening boom. In front of him, over a hundred feet below, was the presidium floor, and it was getting closer.

* * *

><p><strong>Next: Out of the Frying Pan<strong>


	30. Out of the Frying Pan

"I've learned over the years that the key to dominating your enemies is not to worry about death, but to worry about having a boring one."**  
><strong>

**-Aria T'Loak**

**...**

**Chapter 10: Out of the Frying Pan**

* * *

><p>Time has a way of slowing down when you're in free fall. Sensations linger awhile. Space and time are subjected to a sort of stretch, and everything is exaggerated. The most basic physiologies, which normally play their roles with a subtle imperceptibility, suddenly demand your attention. Every breath; every heartbeat takes on a life of its own. As a member of a terrestrial species, meant by all accounts to have your feet grounded against the gravitational pull of an enormous mass, you come to terms with the fact that something is very wrong.<p>

As he plummeted toward the presidium floor, with Ashley Williams only a few feet behind him, Shepard used those dilated seconds to think of a way out. He thought, as he always did in desperate situations, of how there must be a chance. No matter how badly things looked, there was always a chance.

The sad fact, on this particular occasion, was that he had jumped out of a window without any semblance of a plan. He remembered seeing three H.E. mines land a few feet away, grabbing Ashley, and taking the only way out of the room. Now there was nothing between them and the ground below.

He moved his arm and craned his head for an upward view. The embassy had erupted into a blazing inferno above. The building coughed out spirals of smoke and fire. A thick, black column poured out from Cassus's office and up toward the artificial sky. Ashley was falling with her eyes closed. The passing air whipped threads of hair free from her ponytail. Shepard tried to make out the expression on her face.

Shepard had known Ashley Williams for what seemed like a very long time. She had burst into and out of his life on many occasions, and each time she brought a chaotic new chapter along with her. Eden Prime. Horizon. London. Even now, falling to his death at the hands of a galaxy wide conspiracy, he was not surprised.

Maybe it was nostalgia. Maybe it was exhaustion. Either way, as he looked at Ashley's face, Shepard did not feel afraid. He did not feel the familiar guilt that came with putting his people in danger. He felt calm. He felt confident. He felt-

[Thud]

He landed hard on his back, knocking the wind clean out of him. There was a second impact as Ashley landed on his chest. He heard a crack and grimaced in pain. Sandwiched between a fully armored Spectre and a very hard surface, he found himself struggling for breath. The surprise of the impact left him speechless.

Ashley coughed out a mouthful of smoke and shook her head. The cough turned into a laugh as she realized that they were both still alive. Somehow they had impacted early. But on what?

"Holy hell." She shook her head. "Right out the window! Seriously Shepard, you still know how to make an exit." She coughed again. "Phew...I thought that was it. I thought we were done...floor stains. I don't know what the-" She stared past Shepard's shoulder and trailed off. Something caught her attention and stopped her in mid sentence.

"Williams?" He said, staring up at her.

Williams didn't answer. She continued to stare past him with a blank expression on her face. From where he was laying, he could only see upward. The presidium ads flashed upside down above his head.

"Williams?"

She said nothing.

The curiosity was killing him. Shepard began to turn his head. He tried to get a glimpse of what they were lying on.

"Shepard." She said, in a sort of whisper. "Whatever you do...don't move."

Shepard continued the motion.

"I just want to see what..." He shifted his weight to one side. "What we're lying on."

As his shoulder left the surface, he heard something. A subtle clicking sound, like hail falling on ice, or...

He froze.

...or like cracks spreading through glass.

He didn't have to turn around. It was immediately clear what had happened. A large piece of the window had fallen from the office and wedged between two of the iron struts sticking out from the side of the building. Now it was suspended like a tabletop between them. The two Spectre's were lying on the glass.

Ashley stared past Shepard's shoulder, through the glass, and at the Presidium floor beneath. Her left forearm was resting on his chest. Her right palm was flat on the glass. Extending from her fingertips, she saw a spiderweb of cracks. Each time Shepard adjusted his weight, they spread a little more.

Shepard held still. He didn't have a plan yet, but somehow being motionless felt like a good start. His mind raced for ideas. Then, to his horror, Ashley began to push off his chest. She was trying to stand up.

"Ashley-"

"It's OK. I've got this"

"What does that mean?"

"I have an idea."

"What do you mean you have an idea?!"

"Just...don't move." She was still whispering. "I'm going to try something."

"OK. I'm not going to move." His voice was starting to sound anxious. A car passed somewhere beyond his view. The air stirred by. "Just give me a heads up before you do anything crazy."

"Come on Shepard. Who do you think you're talking to?"

Shepard heard another crack and felt the glass shift behind his back. He decided not to answer her question. She continued.

"This window is stuck between to construction struts..."

"I know. I saw them when I looked over the edge earlier."

"If I can just jump to one of them-"

He let out a nervous laugh, laced with a dose of sarcasm.

She continued. "...if I can reach one of those struts, we'll be OK."

Shepard was about to shake his head, but thought better of it. Ashley lifted herself into a crouch. One of her knees pressed between Shepard's thighs. He felt a lump in his throat

Slowly, Ashley broke eye contact and turned her head to the left. She heard a faint 'clink' from down by her palm and froze.

"Williams!"

"Relax skipper. We're going to be fine."

His throat was too dry to laugh. He felt helpless just lying on his back. She continued to turn her head until the strut came into view. The piece of riveted metal was at least five feet away. Blue light from the flashing advertisements played across it's surface. The glass edge rested precariously on top. Ashley felt butterflies in her stomach.

"That one's too far. I can't reach it."

Shepard felt the glass slide a little.

"I think the other one might be closer." Her chin began to move to the right.

Shepard watched her carefully turn her body, inch by inch, carefully maintaining balance. Once more the glass clicked.

"Ashley, I'm starting to think this is a bad idea."

"You never thought it was a good idea."

"True." He had to smile. "I'm just not sure what you think is going to happen when you jump for that beam."

"I'm think I'm going to hang on. And If I were you, I would be getting ready to hang on to me."

"Hang on to you?" His smile disappeared. "What, in your experience, makes you think this plan will work."

"All experience is an arch wherethrough gleams that untravelled world whose margin fades for ever and for ever when I move."

Shepard raised his eyebrows. "Odd time for Tennyson."

"I would say it's a perfect time."

She gently lifted the forearm that had been resting on his chest. Her hand came down on the glass between his neck and shoulder.

[Clink]

He winced.

The move was risky, but now she saw the strut to her right. It was close. Definitely within arms reach.

"I can reach it."

Somehow he was disappointed. He knew what Ashley was going to do next.

"OK Shepard. I'm going to count to three-"

"Ashley!"

"It's going to be OK." Another car passed. The strands of hair dangling from her forehead blew to one side.

"When I get to three, I'm going going to jump. You just have to hang on."

"How are you going to jump with me hanging on?"

"I'm sure we'll figure it out."

Shepard rolled his eyes. A slight rotation of his wrists brought his hands up against Ashley's thighs. Something flashed across her face, if only for an instance, and then was gone.

"Alright. One...two..."

"Stop!" Shepard heard himself interrupt. The knee jerk reflex caught them both off guard.

"There's no need to rush."

"Shepard, we can't just sit here all day. Sooner or later Cassus's people are going to realize that we survived the fall."

"I know. I'm just saying that it might be worth talking over some alternate plans. Maybe we should..."

Her eyes stared down at his, eager for the second half of the sentence.

"Should what? Shepard?"

This time it was Shepard that stared past Ashley's shoulder in silence. He looked up at the burning office they had just left. The fire was spreading up the side of the building. Not far above the open window, was a large flagpole supporting the Council insignia banner. The banner fluttered in the open air, casting a shadow opposite the growing inferno. Shepard watched as the flames creeped up to the base of the pole.

"Oh no."

"What do you mean 'Oh no'?"

There was an audible snap as the pole fell from an elevated forty-five degrees to a right angle with the side of the tower. The weight of the banner began to pull it downward against the melting supports.

"OK, change of plans. Start counting now."

"What? What's happening?"

"OK. Maybe I should start counting."

"Shepard..."

"One."

"Shepard!"

"Two."

Shepard watched the pole continue to bend toward them. Another foot or two and it would break free.

"Now. Jump!"

"I can't. You're freaking me out."

She stared down at him. They both listened to the squeal of bending metal as the last connections between the pole and it's supports gave way. Bits of burning fabric began to flutter past them.

"Just trust me. No time for a new plan. We're sticking with yours."

She nodded.

"One."

They held eye contact.

"Two."

A heavy piece of the banner landed on Ashley's back. She felt an intense heat on her neck and watched new cracks spread from the edge of the pane.

"Three!"

She pushed off with all of her might. The glass split down the middle. Shepard felt it give way beneath him and wrapped his arms around Ashley's waist. In the light of the fire her hands found the edge of the beam. Shepard swung into the side of the building and hit hard. The enormous flag pole fell right past them, a fiery banner in it's wake. They both held on tight.

When she opened her eyes. Ashley saw her gloved fingertips wrapped around the edge of the metal. The glass was gone, but they had made it. She realized she had been holding her breath for over a minute and allowed a deep exhale. Hanging onto her waist, Shepard did the same. If she could hold on for another minute, he could climb up past her and get a hold of his own. From there they could climb through the scaffolding and back into the embassy building.

"Haha! Nice move Spectre!" He shouted. "How's your grip?"

She laughed out loud.

"I think we're going to have to take this beam with us. Either that or you're going to have to weld it off of me."

"Good to hear it. Just hang on for another minute and I'll-"

With that the entire beam gave way. It's base tore clean from the side of the tower. Shepard and Williams went spiraling toward the ground.

* * *

><p><strong>Next: This is it...isn't it?<strong>

**A/N:** Went back and re wrote some earlier chapters recently, most notably the first chapters of both stories. Would love to hear what you think!


	31. This is it, isn't it

"It's a curious thing really. The Reapers went though such a tremendous effort to establish a base at the center of the Galaxy; to amass their Collector army; to stay beneath the radar while carrying out attack after attack on all those human colonies; to round up all those human victims; even to begin construction of a human Reaper larva, and they did this all in advance of their proper invasion. Why go through the trouble? Why not just wait a little longer to harvest those colonists? The answer I believe, is that Harbinger was up to something else. I believe that this was no ordinary harvest. After countless cycles, something made ours special. During the harvest of the protheans, The Reapers must have found something that they were not expecting to find. Whatever it was, it was big enough to cast a ripple across a pattern that had previously been unchanged for millions of years. The answer to this question is the biggest mystery that we, as a united Galaxy, have ever had to face. What staggers me even more than the question, is that nobody seems to notice, or to care."

-Dr. Margaret Childs in an editorial to Cosmosis, a premier academic journal based on Thessia

...

**Chapter 11: This is it...isn't it?**

* * *

><p>Liara banked hard right and cut off a passing freighter. She heard metal grinding metal as her sky car shot through the oncoming traffic. She didn't let it break her train of thought.<p>

"Glyph, try Shepard's communicator again."

"I apologize Dr. T'Soni, but he is still unresponsive. Ping response frequencies exceed the data input and conversion limits of his personal Omnitool. This suggests external interference."

"Something's blocking the signal?"

"Yes. It would seem that someone with access to Citadel infrastructure is trying to prevent Commander Shepard from communicating with outside sources."

"Why?"

"I am unable to speculate as to the purpose of the interference."

Liara nodded and tried to organize her thoughts.

"OK. He was on his way to the Council chambers, we can start by heading that way."

She jerked the wheel sideways, forcing the car into a sharp turn. The back swung wide and tore into an advertisement projection array. A shower of sparks blew into the open air, and the ad went dark. Liara shook her head and kept going.

"_As your PA drone, my core programming compels me to point out the list of traffic and public safety crimes you have committed over the past five minutes..."_

Liara turned to the holographic sphere in the passenger seat and scowled.

"_...but I think I will avoid the subject."_

"You're a quick learner."

She swerved left to pass an armored banking truck and then brought the car back to avoid another oncoming freighter. The disgruntled volus in the drivers seat shook his fist.

"In the meantime, keep digging through that last data cache."

About five minutes earlier, shortly before leaving the Broker safe house, Liara had made a breakthrough with the mysterious symbol on the noctiri ship. It matched an image tagged to an ExoGeni project report titled _Deep Freeze_. With the help of an Exogeni lab director on the Shadow Broker payroll, Liara was stripping the data file for useful information. Glyph summarized the report as she drove.

"_During excavation of Prothean ruins on Thessia, ExoGeni archeologists uncovered a vault of prothean stasis pods. This vault was one of many constructed at the close of the last cycle. It seems that the protheans realized their struggle against the Reapers was becoming hopeless. They speculated that if they could outlast the harvest in stasis, the Reapers would return to dark space. Only then would they be able to organize a counter offensive, or at least prepare for the next cycle. After that-_"

"I know about this already Glyph. We learned it from Vigil on Ilos. That's how the protheans were able to use the Conduit to stop Sovereign from activating the dark space relays. I want to hear more about this new cryo-facility. Tell me what ExoGeni found on Thessia. Why didn't the protheans there survive?"

"_At the close of the cycle, before the Reapers returned to dark space, indoctrinated protheans betrayed the location of a stasis vault on Eden Prime. Not only did the Reapers attack that vault, but they began scouring the galaxy for others like it. They went from planet to planet, uncovering the facilities and wiping out the sleeping protheans."_

"Weren't the vaults hidden? It would have taken too long for the Reapers to comb every underground space in the entire galaxy."

"_The protheans were an Eezo rich people, with powerful biotic abilities. As a consequence, their bodies each projected a unique mass effect field. Each individual field was tiny, almost undetectable. But put enough protheans in one place, a stasis vault for instance, and the combined field becomes measurable, even from orbit. The Reapers devised a way to scan for protheans based on those fields, much like the Normandy scans for resources. It was a time and labor intensive process, but also an effective one. Almost all of the prothean vaults were uncovered and destroyed."_

"_Almost_ all of them?"

"_There were two exceptions that we know about. One was the vault on Ilos. The facility there was left undiscovered due to a power management failure that left all but twelve protheans dead. The combined mass effect signature of the survivors was too small to be detected by the Reapers."_

"And the other?"

"_The vault on Thessia."_

"Why did those protheans survive?"

"_They didn't. Every prothean on Thessia was killed shortly after the cryogenic protocol was initiated, but not by Reapers. Someone within the vault opened the tanks, one by one, and murdered the inhabitants. By the time the Reapers were scanning for protheans, that vault was already off the map."_

Liara slowed the car down as the information sunk in. Without knowing it, she came to a halt in front of the Council tower. She turned back to Glyph.

"Noctiri?" She asked.

"_Yes."_ Glyph answered. "_When ExoGeni opened the vault, they found a single specimen in cryo-sleep: She was depleted of venom and with a belly full of prothean meat."_

Liara cringed at the thought.

"_It appears she slipped into the facility unnoticed, while the scientists were making their preparations. The protheans had a technological advantage, but she had the element of surprise, and she used it well. The ExoGeni archaeologists who discovered her named her Tasi, short for Androktasiai, after a female spirit of manslaughter in Earth mythology. They movedher tank to an undisclosed location for further study."_ Glyph gave off a few frustrated tones. "_The report ends there. I cannot find any clues as to what happened to her next."_

"I think I have a pretty good idea." Liara said.

Glyph was quiet for a moment, and then continued, "_Dr. T'Soni. There is one thing I do not understand."_

"Yes?"

"_Why would the noctiri, called Tasi, kill all of the protheans in the facility? Why not simply kill one and take his tank?"_

Liara thought for a minute and then answered. "Vengeance, I'm afraid. The noctiri were always an aggressive species, but they hated the protheans above all..." She took a deep breath. "...and with good reason. When the protheans first came to Thessia, they found two primitive species in competition for territory. Although, to call it a competition would be flattering the asari. In truth, the noctiri were decimating us. We were nothing more than quivering prey animals, outclassed in every way. For whatever reason, the protheans felt compelled to intervene. They wanted to ensure that the asari would inherit the planet, and so they began a campaign of genocide. The noctiri were driven to the brink of extinction. In less than a year, a once thriving population was wiped from the pages of history."

"_Those tactics seem remarkably similar to the ones employed by Reapers."_

Liara gave a reluctant nod.

"I suppose they do. Asari often justify the fate of the noctiri by trusting to a sort of greater plan; the hope that, in this case, the ends justified the means. We look to the protheans as our saviors from a fate worse than death. There is no telling what the noctiri might have accomplished if they had been given a fair chance. They would have industrialized...built a fleet. They may have been the first to reach the Citadel. The galaxy as we know it would have-"

A sudden impact shook the entire car and cut Liara off in mid sentence. There was an explosion of glass as every window simultaneously shattered.

"Goddess." She cried as the roof caved in to within an inch of her head. Glyph disappeared in a flurry of green squares. The car rocked downward and bobbed back to its original position.

After the impact, everything was calm again. A few pieces of glass fell away from the driver side window with a crinkling noise. The engine ran with a steady hum. Liara stared forward, not sure what to make of things. Before she could collect her thoughts, she heard a voice.

"Go, go, go!"

It was coming from above her, and it sounded familiar.

"Shepard?"

"Just drive!" Came another voice.

Liara stuck her head out of the window and looked upward, just as Shepard was leaning over to peek inside. They came face to face. Liara was speechless.

"I'll explain later." He said, and clambered down, hanging onto the side of the car. In an ungraceful motion, he squeezed through a window and into the back seat.

"How did you-"

She looked backward as someone climbed in through the window on the opposite side.

"Ashley?"

"Hey Liara. Your timing is getting better and better."

Liara looked back to Shepard.

"Shepard, why didn't you tell me you were going to meet with Ashley?"

"I wasn't planning on it. We sort of ran into each other."

"That's one way to put it." Williams added, picking a piece of glass out of her hair. "By the way, now would be a great time to start driving, especially if you like the way your car looks without pieces of building on it."

"You should have told me you were counting on a fight. I could have helped." Liara said, still looking at Shepard.

"I'm telling you the truth. I had no idea what I was walking into. I was counting on a meeting."

Ashley looked from Liara to Shepard, detecting a new sort of tension.

"Is there something going on here that I should know about?"

Shepard watched a large piece of burning banner float past the car and answered. "It's nothing. Can we go now."

Liara's eyes lit up. "Oh it's nothing, is it?"

"Come on Liara. You know what I meant."

"Ok, now this is getting interesting."

"Not a good time Ash."

"What exactly is it a good time for Shepard. Since you two are in such a destructive mood, are there any other buildings you feel like destroying tonight."

"Now that you mention it, there's this club I got thrown out of once..."

"Ash, you're not helping. Liara, long story short, C-Sec is trying to kill me because I shot the Turian Councilor."

"You what!?"

"Well I didn't _actually _shoot him."

"Shepard just thought the council office needed redecorating." Ashley giggled to herself. It wasn't often Liara lost her temper. She couldn't resist stirring the pot.

"So you bombed the embassy?"

"I did not bomb the embassy! Someone else bombed the embassy, almost with us inside."

"Us?" She turned to face forward. "First you leave me in the dark about this mission, and now it's _us_."

"I...just trust me for a minute. We need to get back to the Normandy as quickly as possible. It's the first place they'll go when they realize we survived the fall."

Liara gripped the wheel and hit the accelerator. The two Spectres were flattened against the back seat. Shepard heard Liara mumbling to herself as she drove. "..._we_ survived. Thank the goddess that _we_ survived..."

Ashley continued to goad her.

"Come on Liara, everyone is safe and sound. Quit being so blue."

Shepard tried to ignore them both. As the car rocketed through the Citadel wards, he activated the communicator and dialed in a code Kasumi had given him earlier. Her face appeared on the screen.

"_What's up Shep?"_

"No time to explain, just gather as much of the squad as you can and get back to the Normandy. We need to-"

"_Shhhh."_ Kasumi interrupted. "_Something's happening. Every C-Sec patrol in the area is moving out. I think they might be on to me."_

"They're not on to you. They're on to me."

"_What?"_

"Don't you watch the news? I'm in a bit of trouble with the law."

"_Shep!" _ She almost squealed as she said his name. "_A wanted man? I don't think I've ever felt so close to you."_

"Just get back to the Normandy."

"_Happy to prep the getaway for you boss."_ She flashed a grin. "_Over and out."_

The screen went dark. In the front seat Liara wasn't talking anymore, just keeping her eyes in front as she darted in and out of traffic.

"Are you OK up there?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't I be? It's not like I went from welcome Citadel guest to wanted criminal in the span of thirty seconds."

"You're not a wanted criminal."

"Well technically, she is the Shadow Broker, so...there's that."

"Shut up." Shepard and Liara said in unison. Ashley smiled and leaned back into her seat.

Suddenly, Glyph reappeared in the passenger seat. "_I'm sorry to interrupt your confrontational mating ritual Dr. T'Soni..."_ Ashley laughed. "_...but there are multiple C-Sec patrol cars moving to intercept this vehicle."_

Shepard looked back over his shoulder and spotted them. Two cars, attack formation and closing fast.

"Those aren't C-Sec." He said. "They're private security."

"Cassus's people?" Ashley asked.

"Or ExoGeni or mercenaries or who the hell cares. The point is that they're moving into firing position."

Liara sped up and slid in between two glowing ads. They came up on a truck backing out a loading bay, and she banked hard left. Shepard was launched from his seat and into the right side of the car, where he slammed into Ashley. Liara saw the tangle of arms and legs and narrowed her eyes. She took a sharp right, and the pile slid the other way, pinned against the left side of the car.

"Can't either of you put on a safety harness?" Liara asked.

A stream of gunfire tore past their car and cut into the side of a passing apartment building.

Liara would have remarked on the close call, but was more fixated on the back seat.

"Shepard, hang on to something will you?" She called out. When she saw him grab onto the handle above his head she banked left. Ashley slid back to her side of the car and hit the door with a thud.

"That's better."

"You maniac. Will you quit worrying about who's sitting where and maybe try focusing on the people who are shooting at us."

Liara growled and reached into the back seat. Her hand moved right between Shepard's legs. He felt a lump rise in his throat. Her fingers made their way to his hip, where they wrapped around the grip of his Paladin handgun. She drew it free from its holster and brought it up into the front seat with her. Shepard let out a deep breath.

Without warning, Liara slammed on the airbrakes. The two pursuing cars shot ahead of them. As they passed, she reached out through the open window and unleashed a singularity. The violent black and purple sphere appeared fifty meters away, pulling a pair of floating billboards and random debris into the path ahead. The enemy cars slammed into the collection, the impact vaporizing their kinetic barriers, but leaving their frames mostly unharmed. Before the drivers could react, Liara lifted the gun and fired a barrage of armor piercing rounds through the windshield. Both cars detonated into fiery wrecks that lit up the area and then plummeted into a dark space between the buildings.

Without another word, Liara tossed the pistol back over her shoulder. It landed on Shepard's lap. He juggled the steaming weapon a few times before popping a thermal clip out the window.

"Any more jokes?" Liara asked. Nobody answered.

"Good. Then lets get the hell off of this station."

* * *

><p><strong>Next: Just a Glitch<br>**


	32. Just a Glitch

"I've always been amused by the phrase, 'Just a misunderstanding.' Misunderstanding is clearly one of the Universes most destructive forces. In human history alone, how much tragedy can be traced back to a false sense of certainty. How many wars have been seeded by a failure to communicate. The First Contact War could have been averted with the simple question, 'May we open this door?' and the simple answer, 'No.' But then again, I feel like a hypocrite just pointing this out. I never was much of a talker."

-Samara, in a conversation with Commander Shepard aboard the SR-2

...

**Chapter 13: Just a Glitch**

* * *

><p>Liara's car blew through the established traffic patterns and skidded to a stop in the shadow of the Normandy, just outside bay D-24. Shepard saw that the entire crew had gathered along the railing by the observation window. Kasumi stood among the troops. She had changed back into her standard infiltrator outfit, her eyes sparkling under the hood. Everyone looked nervous. They must have seen the news by now. They would certainly have questions.<p>

Shepard stepped up to the bay with Liara and Ashley in tow. As he approached the group, they remained silent. Those that were sitting stood up. After a quick nod to no one in particular, Shepard began.

"There's no time for the long version, so I'll cut to the chase." Liara came to stand by his side. "Councilor Cassus is staging a coup to overthrow Galactic government as we know it. I don't know exactly what he's planning or why, but part of his design involves eliminating me and anyone else who gets in the way." Shepard took a step forward. "As of this evening, I have been accused of killing a member of the Citadel Council. This is one of the most severe crimes recognized under Galactic law, and one that I had absolutely nothing to do with. Unfortunately, given the circumstances, I can't expect a chance to tell my side of the story any time soon."

"What does that mean for us?" One of the Marines asked.

"It means that the accusation will draw an exhaustive pursuit." He pointed a finger up at the Normandy. "This ship will be priority number one. Not only from C-Sec, but from every authority in Council space. Spectres, Justicars, STG... until I can clear my name, we have to assume that Cassus will exploit every resource at his disposal. Make no mistake people, as of this moment, the Normandy is being hunted."

"So what do we do?"

"That's a question I can't answer for you. I can tell you that I am leaving. I'm going to do everything I can to find out exactly what Cassus is plotting,and I'm going to stop him before anyone else gets hurt." He scanned the eyes of the assembly. "This is your chance to walk away. I am the only one here who has been accused of anything. You can head to the Alliance HQ on the presidium and ask to be reassigned to a new boat. You're the best of the best, and the Alliance knows it. That's how you got on the Normandy in the first place. I can safely say that you will have your pick."

No one moved. Shepard continued.

"I'm not going to blame anyone for opting out. I'm not sure where we'll be going next, but I can say with confidence, it won't be anywhere safe."

There was another moment's silence before Joker broke the tension.

"Well we've already tried being Spectre agents, Cerberus mercenaries, Alliance heroes...the righteous outlaw thing might be a nice change of pace. Maybe we can even get cool hats and bandanas."

"As long as you don't try any new accents."

"Alright I'm in. Besides, unless you want to take a taxi on this mission, you're going to need me."

Shepard smiled. "How about the rest of you?"

Kasumi stepped forward. "Come on Shep. Sneaking the Normandy from system to system...dodging patrols...flying in stealth mode...constantly watching over our shoulders...this is going to feel like an ordinary day off for me."

Ashley added "I've already missed out on two suicide missions. I'll be damned if I leave your side again skipper."

Liara rested a hand on Shepard's shoulder and nodded. "Of course I'm in too. I've learned many things from you over the past few years Shepard, but I think the most important lesson of all is that-"

"_I'm sorry to interrupt Dr. T'Soni." _Hanna chimed in from the Normandy's PA system. "_But the Normandy has thirty-two active crew members. At this rate it will take longer to interview each of them, than it will for C-Sec authorities to arrive at the bay. May I suggest, Shepard Commander, that you simply ask anyone who is interested in coming on the mission to board immediately, and to ask everyone else to please stop talking and get out of the way."_

Liara shook her head. Shepard shrugged his shoulders in acquiescence.

"_Incidentally, as my memory core is fused with the ship's chassis, I am also in."_

"Thank you Hanna." Shepard turned back to the group. "Now or never people."

One by one, the techs, commandos, and other crewmembers filed up the ramp to the ship. Most of the newer recruits were glowing with excitement. The Normandy was a legend after all, and they were about to write themselves into it.

The last two at the window were Kasumi and Ashley. They found themselves standing shoulder to shoulder, looking up at the impressive ship. It occurred to Ashley that she had only heard legends of the master thief and had never actually seen her in person. She looked the infiltrator suit up and down, and after taking a moment to choose her words, she said,

"You must be the thief."

Kasumi turned her head, the shadow of the hood hiding most of her face.

"You must be a genius."

**...**

There was a flurry of activity as the crew of the Normandy prepped for departure. Shepard heard engineers Donnelly and Daniels running through systems over the com.

"_Life support."_

"_Check."_

"_Fire control."_

"_Check."_

"_Bay doors and pressure seals."_

"_Closed and locked."_

"_Helix drive coming online. Let's start diagnostics."_

"_Oh, lets skip the damn diagnostics. Just light the bastard up."_

"_Watch your language Gabby!"_

"_Watch your own damn language. Let's get this son of a bitch moving!"_

"_What's gotten into you. This is the most sophisticated drive system in the galaxy, you can't just 'light the bastard up.' There are steps to follow; checklists to-"_

Shepard heard the sound of a data pad being tossed across the floor.

"_We're fugitives now. We don't need checklists. Woohoo!"_

Suddenly the Helix drive came alive with a roar. A pattern of haptic displays and instrument gauges lit up along the length of the ship. A vibration rattled the hull and shook everyone off of their feet. Shepard grabbed the bridge to keep from falling over."

"_Damn it Gabby, we haven't released the docking clamps yet."_

"_Oops."_

Shepard looked over at Traynor, whose knuckles were white on the console.

"Sure you're ready for this?" He asked.

She gave a half hearted smile. "Ready as I'll ever be. I may not be as thrilled as the rest of this lot..." There was another whoop of excitement from engineering. "but I'm always happy to do what I can."

A passing crewmember handed Shepard a datapad with the Normandy's cargo manifest. He saw that the ship was well stocked with food, medical supplies, ammunition, and small arms. Shepard nodded and signed off on the panel.

"Thank you sir." He lingered for a moment. "And may I just say it's an honor to fly with you."

"Alright son, go find a seat and strap in. You can honor me all you want when we get past the Relay."

Traynor watched the young man leave. She turned back to Shepard.

"Speaking of Relays Commander, have you given any more thought to where we'll be going?"

Shepard shook his head. "To be honest, I haven't thought that far ahead."

"In that case, I might have a suggestion."

**...**

There was a loud, mechanical thud as the magnetic clamp released from the side of the Normandy's hull. A series of chirps signaled that the ship was free. As the engines engaged and the nose drifted to starboard, Joker watched the station slip to the periphery of the display and then completely out of view.

"This is Normandy SR3 requesting departure clearance."

"Negative Normandy. You have been flagged for detainment. Re-engage dry dock immediately."

"Yeah... I think I'll just keep going."

"Normandy, you are harboring an enemy of the Council, re-engage now!"

"I hear where you're coming from" Joker replied. "I could re-engage and go to a C-Sec cell for the rest of my life, or... and hear me out for a minute...or I could just take the fastest ship in the Galaxy and leave."

The Normandy continued to drift away from the Citadel. The Helix drives began to purr.

"Return to bay D-24 or you will be pursued and fired upon."

"OK, let me get this straight. If I make a run for it, you're going to send one of your much slower ships out to chase me. You might want to repeat that plan out loud...you know, just to make sure it sounds as good to you as it does to me."

"I..."

"...am an idiot? Yeah, but don't worry about it. People change. People grow. Now if you don't mind, we've got a Galaxy to save...again."

Joker brought his right hand down on the interface. A blue light filled the bay. He pushed his hand forward, and the light exploded, sending a shudder through the hull, and launching the Normandy out toward the relay. Soon they were engulfed in the thick cloud of dust and gas that permeated the nebula. Joker watched on his short range scans as a group of pursuing ships fell into formation and then faded into the distance.

"Ha. After all that, they still tried to chase us."

He leaned back into his chair. Hanna stared silently up at him, her panels shifting curiously as usual. Joker glanced back to the scanner. The C-Sec ships appeared as four tiny orange blips. They blinked in unison as their mass effect fields were picked up by the Normandy's detector. Even at 50% thrust, they were slipping away.

Joker tugged his cap a little lower. He was about to hand control over to Hanna, when he noticed something. A small distance behind the four signals, a larger light began to blink. An enormous light in fact.

Joker tapped at the interface. He zoomed in on the signal. Unlike the four pursuing vessels, this one was motionless, sitting somewhere in the proximity of the Citadel.

"Hanna what is that?" He asked.

"_The signature is novel. It has no matches in any Galactic Codex. It is definitely a Reaper though."_

Joker nearly fell out of his chair.

"What!?"

"_It is a Reaper...only it...never mind...the signal is gone."_

Joker, suddenly in a cold sweat, looked back at the screen. The large signal had in fact disappeared. Only the four smaller ships remained. He stared at the screen for another minute before he was confident it was actually gone.

"Must have been a glitch...a signal from an older scan that got stuck in our memory banks."

"_That is a possibility."_

Joker exhaled. For a moment, no one spoke.

"By the way. If you ever..._ever_...spot a Reaper signature...which is impossible, because they're extinct...try to be a little more alarmed about it. Don't just say 'It is definitely a Reaper,' with the same tone as 'it is definitely going to rain today.'"

"_It is definitely not going to rain today. We are in an artificially controlled environment."_

Joker rested a palm over his eyes.

Hanna's panels shifted backward.

"_While the Normandy lacks the requisite area to support rain, I could theoretically alter humidity settings to coat the cabin with a fine condensation, if you prefer."_

"It was an analogy Hanna. I don't actually want you to make it rain inside the cabin. OK?"

"_OK."_

"Just set a course for the relay before C-Sec sets up a blockade."

"OK"

**...**

"Cassus might not have as much influence as you think."

"What do you mean Traynor?"

"Think about it. He's trying to frame you for killing a turian councilor. If anyone should be foaming at the mouth, it's the turians. The last time one of their councilors was threatened...threatened, mind you, not killed...they mobilized half a fleet to chase down the single krogan responsible for it. Tarquin was one of the most beloved war heroes in turian history. Based on that alone, I would expect the turians to come after the assassin with everything they've got."

"If you're trying to make me feel better, it's not working."

"OK, let me explain." She rested her hands on the terminal and started pulling up images. "It's true that the Citadel media and C-Sec are after you. They're splashing your picture over every billboard and vid screen, but the turians, who should be more upset than anyone, have not said a word. I have been scouring the extranet since the murder. The turians have not mobilized a single ship or released a single statement with your name on it. So far they have shown no interest in pursuing you."

Shepard thought for a minute. Traynor's point was interesting.

"The hierarchy must not believe the rumors. I'm not sure why, but despite all the propaganda stacked against you, the turians still have your back."

"I can give you two reasons." Liara said, stepping onto the bridge. "Primarch Victus and General Vakarian. Two of the most highly decorated and respected voices in the Hierarchy. Both are fiercely loyal to Shepard. As long as they are around, we can count on turian support."

Shepard stared into the galaxy map. "Are you suggesting we go to Palaven?"

"I wouldn't." Liara answered. "Showing up in person will just inflame the situation. Having a few powerful friends is one thing, but I'm sure there are millions of turians who _do_ believe the rumors. If they see the Normandy land on Palaven, they might be stirred to violence. We need to give Victus some breathing room...maybe disappear for awhile, at least until the situation cools down."

"And let Cassus make the next move? I don't think so." Shepard shook his head. "He's already too many steps ahead."

"So what do you think his next move will be?" Traynor asked.

"He will use his influence the only way he knows how. He will declare me an enemy of the Council and threaten anyone who harbors me with the same label. We will have to avoid Council space entirely. That means no Palaven, no Thessia and definitely no Sur'Kesh. Anyone we make contact with is a potential victim. We'll have to start somewhere else."

"What about the the fake genophage sample." Ashley spoke up. "We know that Cassus is trying to stir up tensions between Rannoch and Tuchanka. He may have more of these vials. It will be a disaster if one is discovered by the Krogan. We should try to make contact with clan Urdnot. The krogan will probably pat you on the back for taking a turian out of the equation."

"So you're saying we go to Tuchanka?"

"Exactly. We calm things down before they get out of control. Tuchanka is the priority."

"I might have a different point of view if anyone cares to listen." A disembodied voice came from behind Ashley. Kasumi appeared with the sizzle of a deactivating cloak.

"Go ahead." Shepard said.

"The truth is Shep, that no matter how you look at it, the game has changed. If we're going to stop Cassus, we have to change the way we play it."

"What do you mean?"

"Start thinking like he does. If Garrus and Victus are the only two people standing between you and an angry Turian armada, what do you think Cassus is going to do next? And bear in mind, he has the Galaxy's greatest assassin on his payroll."

"You don't think.."

"I'm afraid I do. I think Cassus will be targeting your two best turian buddies."

"But I don't see-"

"Why? Because a guy like Cassus always has more than one iron in the fire. We know that he is planning on dealing crushing blows to the geth, the quarians and the krogan. I'm betting he wants to add the turians and the humans to that list. Why start one war, when you can have two."

She walked around the circle as she talked.

"Right now your name is being trashed by every media outlet in Citadel space. Whether you lived or died today, Cassus will be expecting the Alliance to rush to your defense. Hackett, along with the rest of Alliance leadership, will no doubt be singing your praises to everyone who will listen. This sets up a pro and anti Shepard debate, with violent supporters on each side. As tensions come to a head, Cassus cuts the last two threads holding the turians in check." She made a scissor motion with her fingers. "The turians are devastated and looking for vengeance. They will not sufferr the loss of a Primarch, a general, and a councilor, so they fix their sights on the Alliance, who is supporting the assassin. The dominoes begin to fall, and before you know it, Palaven is at war with Earth." She made a picture frame with her hands. "They could call it 'First Contact War Two'... or 'Second Contact War' maybe. I'll let the media decide which sells more vids."

She stopped in front of Shepard. "Speaking as someone who's spent far too much time rubbing elbows with the galaxy's dark underground, I would forget about Tuchanka. You need to find Garrus before the noctiri does."

Shepard turned white. His mind flashed back to everything Kahlisah had told him on the Citadel. He had called her a nut. A conspiracy theorist. But she had only given him fair warning of everything that was about to happen. She had been right, and he had ignored her. Now he was too far behind. Cassus was lighting fires all over the galaxy. Shepard couldn't put them all out on his own.

"Um...Commander." Came Traynor's hesitant voice, breaking the silence that had followed Kasumi's theory.

"I hate to throw another wrench in things, but you have an urgent message on your terminal."

Shepard took one look at the screen.

* * *

><p><strong>From: <strong>Urdnot Eve  
><strong>Subject: <strong>The time has come

* * *

><p>Kasumi sighed. "This can't be good news."<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Next: Care to Step Outside?<strong>


	33. Care to Step Outside?

"You know, I haven't had a real meal in weeks. What's this slop supposed to be anyway?"  
>"Not sure."<br>"I'll tell you man, I could really go for a nice juicy steak right about now."  
>"M'hmm"<br>"Sizzling, right off of the grill, red on the inside...like a fine Merlot, smelling of melted butter, dripping grease all over the place."  
>"OK."<br>"Or maybe a hot plate of Churrasco. There was this place in Rio that served the most amazing Churrasco; best I've ever had. Crispy on the outside...moist and spicy when you bite in. Killer man. Just killer.  
>"Right."<br>"OK, so how about you? If you had to pick between those two, which would it be?"  
>"Both."<br>"What do you mean both? You have to pick one."  
>"Why?"<br>"Because that's the point of the question; to learn more about you. If you had to pick one..."  
>"Both."<br>"You can't have both. That's the way choices work."  
>"I can always have both."<br>"Not this time."  
>"Who says?"<br>"I do."  
>"You do?"<br>"Yeah."  
>"Then I grab you by the neck and squeeze until your head explodes...then I take both."<br>**[Silence]**  
>"Good talk Grunt."<p>

**-Conversation between Jacob and Grunt aboard the SR2**

**Chapter 14: Care to Step Outside?**

* * *

><p>Commander Shepard. Since the day we first crossed paths, you have been a friend and ally to the krogan. You fought with us on Tuchanka, you rallied us at Earth, and of course, you helped to free us from the shackles of the Genophage. To ask more of you seems unfair at best, but I am afraid the purpose of this message is to do exactly that. As you know, there is nothing I would not do for my people, my clan, or my family. As I write this, all three may be in danger. Now I must do what no krogan ever hopes to do. I must call for aid. If this message finds you well, please come to Tuchanka. Should you agree, you will find Aralakh company, and their commander, waiting to receive you. Of course I will understand if you are detained by more pressing matters.<p>

Best in life and death,  
>Urdnot Eve<p>

* * *

><p>Shepard closed the message. Kasumi spoke up first.<p>

"Well that seals it. We go to Tuchanka."

Ashley let her jaw drop. "Are you kidding? You just finished convincing us that Garrus has an assassin headed his way...that preventing a Turian war is the priority. Now you want to drop everything to deal with this."

"Exactly."

"I still haven't figured out your sense of humor."

"Look, Garrus can handle himself." Kasumi said. "And besides, he's with Tali on Rannoch... a world populated almost entirely by Geth troopers. I'd pity the assassin that comes after him there. Eve needs our help."

"So what? She has an army of loyal krogan by her side. Let them deal with it."

"This message calls their loyalty into question. Clearly she is worried about the safety of her family."

"What about Garrus. Don't we owe him anything?"

"He's a soldier. He's also in a much less vulnerable position."

"Tali has a new child to protect."

"So does Eve."

"Enough." Shepard stepped in between them.

"A moment ago you wanted to go Tuchanka." He pointed at Ashley. "And you wanted to help Garrus." He pointed at Kasumi. "Are you telling me that you've both changed your minds in the span of five minutes."

"A lot's happened since then." Kasumi, said.

"There's something we agree on." Ashley replied.

Kasumi continued. "I know there's a lot going on here, but at the end of the day it comes down to a promise you made to Wrex." She looked over at Liara. "I'm sure we all remember that moment on the shuttle. With his last words, Wrex asked you to look after his one and only son. If there was ever a time to step up and honor that request, this is it."

Ashley forced a laugh. "You're really going to lecture us about honor? You're a thief, remember?"

"Maybe I've taken some lessons from Shepard."

"I bet the only things you've taken from Shepard were in the strong box in his cabin. You're all talk."

Kasumi popped a retractable blade from her elbow and stepped forward. "Try me."

Ashley waved her hands in mock terror. "Woah...sorry if I'm not threatened by someone who's built like a twelve year old girl."

"Better than being built like a forty year old guy."

Ashley leaned in and shoved her. "You wanna step outside."

"Sure...there's the airlock." Kasumi pointed. "Why don't you go first, and I'll meet you in a minute."

Shepard pushed in between them. "I said that's enough!"

Joker's voice came over the com. "Everything OK back there. We just blew a dial on the estrogen meter."

"Hey... I find that offensive." Traynor chimed in, crossing her arms.  
>"Me too." Said Liara<br>"_Me too."_ Added Hanna.

Shepard gave an exaggerated eye roll. "Honestly Hanna?"

There was a pause.

"_In order to boost unit trust, Dr. Chakwas suggested that I make an effort to bond with my organic shipmates. Even with the ones I don't like...like Dr. T'Soni."_

"Alright." Shepard rubbed his eyes. "You can all be offended later. Right now we have a serious decision to make." He turned to the Galaxy map, where Hanna's face was hovering. "Hanna, is there any way we can use the QE communicator to contact Garrus and warn him about the threat."

"No. The turian government has instituted level one security measures. In the wake of the assassination, all Omnitools and communicators have been switched to encrypted channels to avoid tracking algorithms. The exact location of every high ranking Hierarchy member is now classified. The only way to communicate with either Primarch Victus or General Vakarian is to find them in person. Any attempt to do so would be met with extreme force."

Shepard turned to Liara. "Any other way we could contact Garrus."

"The broker does have contacts within the Hierarchy, but given the severity of the situation, they will want to avoid risking illegal communication." Liara shook her head. "I will try my best to get the message to Garrus, but that doesn't help us with the question at hand."

"Right. Which fire to put out first."

Shepard started thinking out loud to clarify his options.

"We could go to Rannoch and find Garrus, but then we won't be able to prevent the krogan from uncovering the engineered genophage. If we miss that chance, the clan might declare war on the geth. Once the krogan brace for war, it will be very difficult to talk them down, even with evidence."

"...and we would be ignoring Eve's call for help." Kasumi added.

"Also true." Shepard nodded.

"If we go to Tuchanka, we would be able to explain the situation to the clan, using Ashley's vial as evidence. We could use our influence to support Eve and make sure that Mordin is safe. We would also be leaving Garrus and Tali in the dark about the assassin that might be-"

"That probably is..." Ashley interrupted.

Shepard gave her a scolding look and continued. "...That _might be _headed their way. We also risk letting hostilities build between the Alliance and the turians." He took a deep breath. "Either way we put too many good people in danger.

For a moment they all peered into the Galaxy map. Shepard let the options and potential consequences play out in his head. He thought of the monster he had seen on Almarcrux, the one that had nearly killed both Liara and Kasumi. Was he ready to see either Garrus or Tali like that? Then he thought of Eve, surrounded by an unpredictable group of krogan warlords, many of whom would probably be eager to seize control of her clan; to kill her and her son without pity or hesitation. He had promised Wrex that he would protect young Mordin at all costs.

He also thought of the unknowns; the loose ends that didn't fit anywhere yet. The absence of the asari councilor. The relationship between Cassus and ExoGeni. The importance of Dr. Child's research and the blue star Caspian. There were too many questions and nothing seemed connected. Shepard would have to take them on one at a time.

Finally, he thought of Cassus flying in his private shuttle, sipping wine and watching his plans play out...immune to the grief he was causing. Shepard closed his eyes tightly. when he opened them, he reached out and tapped a star on the map. A blue reticle appeared around it. There was a collective exhale from the group waiting behind him.

"Hanna"

"_Shepard Commander?"_

"Tell Joker to get us there as soon as he can."

* * *

><p>Next: <strong>Running Cold<br>**


	34. Running Cold

"No one understands what loyalty means until they've seen the worst in people. Anyone will hold your hand for a walk on the beach. Sure, as long as the sun is shining, they'll never leave your side. Ask that same person to wade with you through a river of $&#*, and you get a very different response. And at the end of the day, it's that second response that matters."

"Why is that?"

"Because that's what life is...one, long river of $&#*."

**-Excerpt from Cerberus psychological profile, Pragia, 2165: Subject Zero**  
>...<p>

**Chapter 15: Running Cold**

* * *

><p>The path ahead was completely dark.<p>

Captain Bailey reached into his pack and pulled out a fiberglass cylinder. He twisted the device with both hands and slapped the top with his palm. The filamentous core let out a deep, red glow. Little by little, the features of the space came into view. The ceiling was inlaid with strange carvings; arching overhead and sweeping down along the walls. The floor was coated with a layer of finely ground substance that felt gritty under foot. Bailey dropped the torch and kept walking.

Sergeant Grieves squinted into the darkness.

"Come on Captain...can't we use anything brighter?"

Bailey shook his head. "That's a negative son. Low frequency torches only. Anything brighter disturbs the keepers."

"But I can barely see my own feet down here."

"I'm sure your feet will be there when you get back to the station. You can look at 'em all you want then."

Grieves groaned. The group continued forward.

Another fifty meters, and Bailey tapped his Omnitool.

"Bravo team checking in."

"_Go ahead Bravo."_

"We just crossed into sector nineteen dash four seven."

"_Excellent. That's as deep as any of our teams has been. Any findings?"_

Bailey looked around. "Not really. We're seeing more of those patterns on the walls though. They're getting denser and more elaborate the farther we go. I think we might be onto something."

"_Any unusual keeper activity?"_

"Now that you mention it, ever since that last gateway they've been stopping to get a look at us. Normally they just ignore you completely."

"_Understood. Proceed forward for...then...-at...will..sect-..four nine."_

"Command...you're breaking up."

"_Rondevoux with...topside...-ack...-sent to you."_

"Say again Command."

"_fff...atttt...nddddd..."_

Bailey killed the channel and looked back at his team.

"What's the word Captain?"

"Who the hell knows. Too much interference down here. Our communication arrays were never meant to penetrate this deep into the Citadel." He kicked one of the walls. The thud echoed throughout the space. "Whatever this place is made of, it's denser than anything we know how to build with."

They started walking; slowly, carefully, watching where they stepped. When it got too dark to see, Bailey dropped another torch.

"So what exactly is it that we're looking for?" Grieves aked.

"A myth." Bailey scratched his chin. "Something the turians call the Postern. The asari call it the Great Discontinuity. The salarians don't believe in it at all." In the glow of a torch, some distance behind them, a keeper scurried into view, stared briefly at the team, then slipped back into the darkness. "Supposedly it's the central control panel for the Citadel. Something that only the keepers have seen. All I know is that Councilor Cassus has half of C-Sec split up into teams, combing these tunnels for it."

"Why now?"

"Damned if I know. After this many years with C-Sec, you learn to stop asking questions."

"Any clue as to what this myth looks like?"

Bailey shrugged. "That's above my pay grade. My orders are to map as we go, dropping torches, and reporting any, quote 'remarkable findings.'"

For a while they walked in silence.

"What about you Captain? What do you think about all this?"

"Waste of time if you ask me. Everyone has their theories about what makes the Citadel tick. Some have dedicated their lives to finding the answers. My attitude is, if it ain't broke, don't fix it."

"So you're not even a little curious?"

Bailey nodded. "Maybe a little, but not enough to waste this much time and resources."

"But what if...ahhh!" Grieves was interrupted as a keeper, hidden in darkness, brushed past his leg. He jumped to avoid the touch, bumping into Bailey. Bailey just smiled.

"Damn it. That thing scared the piss out of me."

"Yeah they'll do that." He motioned to the passing keeper, who stared curiously up at them. "The one thing that all the theories have in common, is that these little buggers have the key. That somewhere in the core of this structure lies the answer to all their mysteries"

Grieves looked disgustedly at the giant aphid. "Where do they come from?"

"Couldn't answer that. No one can. Never seen a young one or an old one. Seen a few dead ones in my time though. They make easy targets for drunk soldiers or mercs up to no good."

"Ever bring one in for interrogation?"

Bailey laughed and dropped another torch. "That's a funny story actually. One time a friend of mine...parter at the time, by the name of Webb, caught a keeper trespassing in his office. Poor thing was just rearranging furniture, as they've been known to do. Webb flipped out though; put the keeper in lockup for the night. You know, to teach it a lesson. The next morning, when he went to let it out, he found that the damn bug had melted."

"Melted?"

"Yeah. Dissolved into a puddle of proteinaceous something or other. The stain's still on the floor in cell number five."

"Ohhh...so that's what that is."

Bailey laughed again. "Uh huh. It's happened a few times since. That's why we go so far out of our way to avoid disturbing them. Any attempt at keeping them from their duties triggers a sort of self destruct mechanism. At that point, your only interrogation tool is a mop."

"Weird."

"I'll say."

**…**

The observation deck of the _Meridian Dawn,_ was a large and empty space. There were no decorations or clutter. No terminals or haptic displays. The room was designed to be free of distractions. To clear the mind. The only object was a single table with a panoramic view of the cosmos. For years it had been used by the council as a place of diplomacy. Thirteen intergalactic treaties, including a war ending ceasefire, had been signed at that very table. Cassus sat at the center, watching a storm swirl on the gas giant Essenus. He did not notice the that he had a guest until she spoke behind him.

"Shepard survived the attack."

Her voice had an elegant cadence. Every statement she made seemed to make absolute sense, as if it had always been and would always be so. Even the most shocking news seemed perfectly routine. That was part of her power after all; putting her victims at ease.

"He found his way back to the Normandy, and now he's left the system."

Cassus took a slow sip from his glass.

"I see." He set the glass down on the table. "I have to admit I'm surprised." He stood up. "...and impressed."

"You're not upset?"

He waved off the suggestion.

"Not particularly." He turned his attention back to the window. Flecks of blue floated past. "Dead...alive...it makes no difference to me. Right now he's cut off from everything that matters. Let him fly around in that ship of his. Let him try to spread his message. The key players are inaccessible to him. Too much is already in motion for him to make a difference." Cassus ran a finger around the rim of his glass. "This is a complication, but ultimately a minor one. At least it will give Sabrak something to be excited about...another mouse to bat around."

"I'm afraid I don't share your optimism. Shepard could still pose a problem. Not to mention that there is an item aboard the Normandy that you still need. Sabrak is-"

"Not as useless as he seems. He may be no match for the good Commander, but even he possesses the rudimentary skills necessary to recover what I need from the Normandy."

"You should have taken the ship when it was docked at the Citadel."

"Back when Tarquin was alive? Back when Shepard was still untouchable? There would have been a riot. The politics alone would have been disastrous." He shook his head. "But now the Normandy is all alone, charting a course in unfriendly space." He lifted his glass. "She maybe fast. She may be quiet. But..." He took one last sip. "...she's not as difficult a target as she seems."

"You don't really believe that?" She took a minute to read his face. "Unless you're not telling me everything."

He smiled.

"You tampered with the Normandy in dry dock didn't you?"

"Just enough to level the playing field. You didn't think I was going to let Sabrak take on a fully operational SR3? I'm a politician my dear. I only fight battles when they've already been won."

"Sabrak's weakness is his overconfidence. Don't let it be yours."

Cassus let a broad smile creep onto his face. "You are truly a magnificent specimen Tasi...as beautiful as you are deadly. I only hope you realize how valuable you are to me."

She said nothing. From across the room she could see her reflection in his large, black eyes.

"I wonder if you will ever see fit to tell me your real name. I would love to hear it."

She turned and took a few graceful steps toward the exit. "My name was lost with my people. It will return only with them." She tapped a key on the wall. The door in front of her slid open. "I just hope you know what you're doing salarian. If you fail to honor your end of the agreement, I can promise you that my name will be the last of your concerns."

"I've said that I will bring the noctiri back to their former glory, and I mean to honor that pledge."

She narrowed her eyes. "It would be a mistake to confuse me with one of your politicians. I know that you would gladly stab me in the back if it suited you, and you know that I would do the same to you. Let's just take comfort in the fact that our goals share a common path...for the moment."

"I can drink to that." Cassus plucked a second glass from an array at the center of the table and held it out to her. "Care to join me?"

"My shuttle is fuelled and ready. It's time for me to go."

"So soon?"

"I know the name of my target. I know where he is."

"And you are confident that you can reach him?"

"He is already dead. He needs only to be reminded."

With that she walked out. Cassus was left staring into an empty glass. He turned it in his hands. The residue on the rim was blood red.

"My dear." He chuckled to himself. "It is truly a bad day to be the Primarch."

* * *

><p><strong>Next: Cat and Mouse<strong>


	35. Cat and Mouse

"My old man was the best sharp shooter in the whole damn colony. He was so fast, that he could pop a thermal clip out of his pistol and put a shot through it before it hit the ground. No one had ever seen anything like it, and there wasn't a man alive that would mouth off to him. I remember being so jealous. Even when I was just a pup, I wanted people to fear me like that. It took a couple years, but eventually I bought a pistol from a passing spacer who was desperate for credits. I promised myself I would train harder than anyone before me. I would be the best shot in the galaxy. Problem was that I was terrible; just a frustrated little gutter rat shooting at cans and missing every time. I couldn't hit the broadside of a krogan. As the years went on, I just got angrier and more pathetic. To be honest I almost quit. That was until I laid hands on my first assault rifle. Turns out that if you hold the trigger down long enough, even a blind man can earn some respect. Once I had that, aim came easy."

**-Zaeed Massani**

**...**

**Chapter 16: Cat and Mouse**

* * *

><p>Eve. Message received and understood. Any threat to clan Urdnot is a threat to my crew. The Normandy is on route to Tuchanka. Hang in there.<p>

-Shepard

* * *

><p>Sitting alone in his cabin, Shepard took a moment to read the message twice. It was short, but got the point across. Eve would appreciate that. With the tap of a haptic key, he sent it out. With another, the screen went dark. He closed his eyes and rubbed them.<p>

"The same goes for you Vakarian." He said out loud. "Wherever you are, I just hope you're watching your back."

If there was one thing that Shepard hated, it was leaving things to chance. No matter how many times he was forced to make a tough decision, he felt himself agonizing about not being able to be everywhere at once. It took every ounce of discipline to remind himself of the promise he had made to Wrex.

"I'm coming for you buddy. There's just one stop I have to make first."

**...**

"Tuchanka." Williams shook her head. "I don't believe it. I've known Shepard since...forever...since before he became a Spectre. We've been through it all together. We've won, we've lost, we've stood side by side when there was no chance of survival." She rotated the bottle in front of her, balancing it on one edge. "And after all that, he takes sides with the thief. That transparent little b-"

"Woah." Hewitt waved a hand. "Anyone care to change the subject?"

Liara spoke up. "He's not taking sides Ashley. We're going to Tuchanka because Shepard believes it's what's best for the Galaxy."

"And you really believe that?"

"Yes. I do. He's going through a lot right now, and choosing to put his best friend in harms way can't have been easy for him." Her blue eyes glanced down at the cards. "And to be honest, I agree with the choice. Shepard takes his promises very seriously. If something happens to Eve or her son, he will never forgive himself."

"Yeah, I guess." Ashley said, dragging a card from the top of the pile. "If it were a personal thing though...If he were taking sides...between me and the thief...you think he'd take mine right?"

"Nope." Hewitt said.

Ashley looked up at him. "Excuse me?"

"No, I mean its not your turn to draw a card. Dr. T'Soni's up."

"Oh." She put the card back.

"Besides," Liara continued. "I don't think it's ever a good idea confuse tactical decisions with personal preference. Cold objectivity is important when it comes to the mission. No matter how hard it is, you should remember the distinction between business and pleasure."

Ashley spit up some beer with an involuntary laugh. "Ha. You're one to talk."

Liara's eyes widened a bit.

"Come on, you walked right into that one." Ashley took a sip from her bottle. "And speaking of pleasure, I have to say I'm surprised. I never saw you as the seductress type."

"Who said anything about seduction?" Liara blushed a little brighter. "It's not like I planned for anything to happen with Shepard. It just sort of...happened."

"I guess I can believe that." Williams reached for another card. "It's not like I should be judging anyone's dating life in the first place. You don't see me fighting men off with a stick."

"Nope." Hewitt said again.

Ashley narrowed her eyes and glared at him.

"I mean..." He turned pale when he looked up. "Cards again. Not your turn. Not that...I don't think that..."

She gave a slow nod. "M'hmm."

"Anyway." Hewitt tried to change the subject. "I can't believe you've never played this game before?" He passed a card to Engineer Donnelly. "It's practically the official pastime of the Alliance."

"I must have missed the memo." Ashley said, watching the card slide by. "This is the first time I've played any sort of card game."

"No way!" Hewitt set the deck down on the table. "In all that time with the fleet, you never played a single hand of poker?"

"Nope."

"Split the naughts."

"No."

"N7s wild."

"Never heard of it."

"Vorcha on Deck."

"No!"

"Really? That one involves doing voices. Shepard's the best at it."

"Somehow that doesn't surprise me."

"How about-"

"Hold on for a second." Ashley lifted a hand to stop him. "Liara, how many languages do you speak?"

"Twenty seven...if you include those that have been dead for a few hundred years."

"Fantastic. Could you do me a favor and explain to this guy that I've never played a card game...any card game...ever?" She took another sip of beer. "Because he's having some trouble absorbing the point in English."

Hewitt shook his head. "OK, I get it. I just think it's crazy."

He placed a card in front of Ashley. She didn't reply, but simply rested an index finger on top and slid it towards herself. The silence was interrupted by the sound of a fridge opening.

"Anyone need a refill?" Came Traynor's voice from behind the bar. "We've still got a few hours until Tuchanka, and I know how to make a mean strawberry margarita."

"Hang on a minute." Ashley said, suddenly sounding offended. "What did you just say?"

"Ummm..." Traynor's voice wavered. "I guess I could do lime instead?"

Ashley kept her eyes fixed Hewitt. "No. What do you mean you 'think it's crazy?"

Hewitt held up his hands. "Only that I find it hard to believe you've made it this far without ever picking up a deck of cards. That's about the only thing there was to do on the cruiser. What did you do for fun?"

"You know some of us took our tours seriously. Unlike you and your buddies, I understood that there's no room for getting lazy on a military vessel. I learned to leave downtime planetside." She shook her head. "Honestly, in a galaxy where asari can have babies with hanar, me not playing poker can't be the most unbelievable thing you've ever heard."

"Ease up. I didn't mean anything by it."

"Sure you did. You were trying to imply that I'm some kind of socially inept loner." She crossed her arms. "The stuck up, unfunny, by-the-book officer, who nobody wants to hang out with."

"So that's a no on the margaritas then?" Traynor asked.

"I meant no such thing. You inferred what you wanted to."

"Well that's just perfect. Now I _want _to be a socially inept loner?"

"I think that you want people to think that you are."

"Are you speaking English anymore, or just gibberish with an English accent?"

Hewitt continued. "You've got a chip on your shoulder. You like picking fights, and it's easier to feel like the hero if everyone else looks down on you. You can't just accept that I was trying to make friendly conversation. You have to act like everyone is out to get you."

"Uggh, spare me the psychoanalysis. I don't need some silver spoon sucking rookie telling me about who I am."

"I'm only telling you what you already know."

"Alright, you want to know why I don't have as much experience with cards and drinking games and whatever the hell else you and your buddies do when you're not scratching your own butts? Try raising three younger siblings without a father around. Believe me, it doesn't leave much room for nights out with friends." She leaned forward. "Not everyone grew up with a butler."

"I didn't have buttler." Hewitt found himself raising his voice.

"Getting a little defensive there, sport. Maybe we should try shoveling around your psyche for a while." Ashley leaned back in her seat. "I bet we'll find a freighter-load of mommy and daddy issues."

"Alright everyone." Liara interrupted. "Maybe we should take a break from all this _friendly conversation_."

There was a long pause, punctuated by some awkward eye contact.

"I'm going to go ahead and put the strawberries back in the fridge." Traynor tried again.

"No. Not yet." Hewitt said.

Traynor froze. "So..."

"I'm not giving up until she accepts that I was just trying to be nice."

Ashley rolled her eyes. Hewitt kept going.

"I get that I'm new here, and that you don't trust me. I get that you're this great war-hero Spectre, and that I'm a nobody. But for right now, we're all in the same boat." He nodded toward the observation window. "Whether you like it or not, the storm clouds are starting to get pretty thick out there. Sooner or later, it's going to be important for you to stop picking fights and to start working with the team. If that means the great Ashley Williams suffering through some ordinary human interaction, than so be it."

She stared back at him.

"Now are we going to fight about this all night, or are we going to knock it off and play some bloody poker?"

For a moment she said nothing, then slowly, she reached out and slid a card from the top of the deck.

Hewitt stared blankly down at it. "OK, I think we can call that progress."

"Call it what you want." She drained her beer and set it on the floor. "But you should know that the last Marine who talked to me like that ended up walking from deck to deck with a handful of his own teeth, looking for someone with a background in dentistry.

Hewitt turned a shade whiter. "D...duly noted."

After picking up her hand and staring confusedly at it, Ashley looked over her shoulder and shouted, "Traynor, where are we with those margaritas?"

…

"Hanna, can you run another set of engine diagnostics." Joker tapped a few keys. "Not everything. Just the velocity feedback arrays."

"_Of course Flight Lieutenant. May I ask why?"_

"I can't put my finger on it, but something doesn't feel right up here."

"_Please elaborate."_

"According to the interface, we're running FTL at eighty percent thrust. It just...it feels like we're going slower than that."

"_Feels like? Without wind resistance or nearby objects to chart, it should be impossible to gain a subjective sense of velocity in empty space. Gravity well feedback arrays are the only available measurement."_

"Arrays can be glitchy. Trust me on this one. After a long enough time at the helm, speed becomes a sixth sense. I can't describe it. It's something you can sense deep in your bones."

"_You're referring to otolith movement in the inner ear?"_

"No, I'm not referring to otolith movement in the inner ear." Joker shot back in his beth geth impression. "I can just feel it, OK."

"_Understood."_

"Really?"

"_No...but I will run the diagnostics anyway. I am becoming adept at recognizing meaningless human metaphors, and categorizing them in a way that facilitates functional interpretation."_

Joker laughed. "You're working on a BS translator? I guess you understand humans better than I thought."

The panels on Hanna's head shifted backward and her eye glowed a bit brighter.

"I mean, officially I'm offended," Joker tipped the brim of his hat. "but I like the way you think."

"_Thank you. I will try to incorporate your praise into future functionality."_

He laughed again. "Fine. Just don't let it get to your..." He trailed off. Something on the display caught his attention.

"_Is there something wrong Flight Lieutenant."_

"That's weird." Joker tapped the short range scanner. "What do you make of that?"

**...**

"So Liara steps right up and says 'If we do not resolve this situation now, I am afraid things will become awkward.'" Williams covered her mouth to avoid spitting up beer with her resulting laughter. "And...and you should have seen the look on Shepard's face. I thought he was going to piss his pants."

The entire table was rolling with laughter. Hewitt wiped a tear from his eye. "You did not actually say that."

Liara buried her head in her palms. "It was my first time dealing with humans. Forgive me for not understanding the cultural nuances. I was trying to make things less uncomfortable."

Williams continued. "So anyway, there we are. The three of us facing each other-"

"Just standing there?"

"Yeah! Right in the middle of the room, like a scene out of a damn court room drama." Ashley let out a burp. "Oh, excuse me..." She said in a mock British accent, looking at Hewitt before continuing. "And Shepard is looking back and forth between us; more terrified, mind you, then I have ever seen him since."

"He was not that scared."

"Are you kidding me? You caught him completely off guard. One minute he's mapping out a battle plan against Saren, and the next, he's on your little dating game show. It took him a full five minutes to put together a coherent sentence."

"You make it sound like I was trying to torture him." Liara insisted. "Anyone in my position would have been a little awkward."

"Awkward? A krogan riding a tricycle is awkward. You were a catastrophe."

They all laughed again.

Traynor, with her head propped up on her hands, spoke next.

"Alright, alright. What did Shepard say?"

"Well. Eventually, after much deliberation..." Ashley covered her mouth and laughed up some more beer. "The skipper looks me straight in the eye and says-"

She was cut off in mid sentence as the lights in the room went out. First the overheads, then the lamps, then the LEDs on the table. After a few seconds the whole company was sitting in darkness.

"OK, there is no way I blacked out from two beers. Is everyone else seeing this?"

**...**

"I'm telling you, those C-Sec frigates are back." Joker insisted. Four signals blinked on the display. "They must have been following us since we left the Citadel."

_"That is impossible. No C-Sec ship has the drive core necessary to-"_

"It's possible and it's happening." He pulled up visual scanning. Images of the pursuing vessels appeared on the display.

_"We have traveled over a light year since the last relay jump."_

"But what if we haven't."

_"I do not understand?"_

"What if we haven't covered much ground at all. What if our navigation and velocity readouts are giving us bad information."

_"The odds of a catastrophic failure in both of those systems is remote. The coincidence would have to be-"_

"I'm not talking about a coincidence Hanna. What if our systems were sabotaged during drydock. You said it yourself; we're too far into space to depend on visual scanning. We've been trusting our systems data. What if we've been drifting for the past few hours, while our arrays are telling us were rocketing through space."

Joker looked down at the blinking orange dots.

"Look! They're closing on us."

"_As long as our stealth systems are functioning, they should not be able to-"_

"Why would our stealth systems be functioning? They probably hacked everything. Watch." He tapped a few keys to activate Thanix cannon control. A crosshair appeared in front of them.

"_It would be reckless to fire cannons without notifying-"_

Joker ignored her. The fire control key went from blue to red as the bay doors opened, and the cannons primed to fire. He tapped the key. Nothing happened.

"Ahhhhh!" Joker yelled in frustration. "Engines are down. Weapons are down. We're sitting ducks. They must be manipulating our drive core remotely."

"_Enemy ships closing to five thousand meters. We've been picked up on visual scans."_ An alarm tone rang out. "_They have weapons lock."_

"Let me guess. Our shields are..."

"_Shutting down."_

"Fantastic."

"_Should I tell the crew to brace for incoming fire?"_

Joker watched the formation continue to close. "If they wanted to open fire, they would have done it by now." Two of the ships broke off and circled to the far side of the Normandy. "They're setting up a perimeter to make sure we don't escape. I think they're getting ready to board us."

"_Should I ready the hull sentry guns?"_

"They're not going to work anyway." Joker pulled up a list of active Normandy systems. One by one they went from solid blue to blinking orange, indicating failure.

"_I have not prepared for this eventuality. The only other option is to shut down core shielding. That would flood the decks with high levels of heat and gamma radiation." _ She looked up at Joker. "_It might deter enemy boarding."_

"The organic members of our crew would probably object to that. Some of us have grown pretty attached to having skin."

"_Then I am out of ideas."_

"The good news just keeps on coming." Joker tapped a key on the display. "Hey Commander."

"_What's going on Joker. The lights just went out all over the ship."_

"Yeah, about that...We may or may not have a boarding party headed our way."

"_What?!"_

"And by one I mean four. And by party I mean boatload of angry C-Sec troopers."

"_How much time do we have?"_

"Based on previous experience...about enough to climb into a ventilation shaft and hide."

"_I'm afraid that the decks on the SR3 are liquid cooled."_ Hanna interrupted. "_Ventilation shafts are filled with an aqueous solution and maintained at negative eighty five degrees Celsius. Harboring concealed humans was not part of the designers intent."_

"Hanna?"

_"Yes?"_

"I'm starting to hate you again."

* * *

><p><strong>Next: Ghost of the Normandy<strong>


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